Of Dancers and Pilgrims
by Doomeater
Summary: Chaos has invaded the Mass Effect universe. two vessels; one full of Slaanesh cultists, and one full of Nurgle worshippers. What will happen when these two terrifying forces collide with the Citadel? Find out here!
1. Chapter 1

Of Dancers and Pilgrims

Hey everyone! It's me! This little tale will be taking place before Mass Effect 2, and will carry on from there.

Huge thanks to RaptorusMaximus, a great writer; author of Necessary Monsters (Mass Effect and Warhammer Crossover). And a great friend, you should check him out, his stuff is awesome!

 ***WARNING** ***** This story contains graphic descriptions of blood and gore, along with semi-implied/acted out forced sexual activities due to this story having Slaanesh cultists in it.

If you don't feel comfortable with these things, please leave now; for I do not wish to scar any younger or more sensitive viewers (but if they're reading something with an M rating, they should know by now that things can happen).

Marching song used was "Come out ye black and tans" by the Irish Descendants

Anyways, sit back and relax. Grab some popcorn and let's begin: Of Dancers and Pilgrims!

Characters:

The Plagued Pilgrims:

 **Loimos RotGut** : A Plague marine, he took part in the Horus Heresy; fighting against the Emperor. Now he commands a ship named the "Art of Illness"; he and his brothers and sisters call themselves the "Plagued Pilgrims" They seek a world for those embracing Nurgle's gift. A large man, standing at around nine to ten feet tall; he is an imposing figure; his behavior however, it a stark contrast; for he is almost always smiling and is downright jolly, even in combat. His weapons are a heavy bolter and Eviscerator for a two handed weapon. His armor is old and corroded, just like him; he sports a rusted suit of MkIII power amour and a M1 Thunder Warrior helm.

 **Halaphus the Painless** : An ancient Chaos Dreadnaught, formally of the Iron Warriors Legion. Loimos's second in command; he found him abandoned in a Space Hulk ten thousand years ago, and they have been campaigning together ever since. While Loimos is cheerful and jolly, Halaphus is cynical and suspicious of other people. His chassis is corroded and infected with Nurglings. His fuel source is pure pestilence and plague; spewing green smog to infect more enemies. His main weapons are an autocannon and a powerfist/flamethrower combo.

 **Sarah Dewvon, Mistress of the Legions:** A female Commissar, formerly of the Penal Legions, she is a strict leader with odd tendencies and caring for those under her command. She wears simple Commissar armor; but faded and tarnished. Her weapons are a Lasgun, Autogun, and Powersword. Her tactics are strange, favoring old-fashioned techniques such as using war drums to inspire courage in her soldiers.

Dancing Court:

 **Lilith ThrillSeaker** : A ruthless and hedonistic woman with a charismatic nature she swayed the high society of her home planet to convert to Slaanesh; along with most of the guardsmen on her world. Leading this mob, she engaged in a murder orgy that greatly pleased Slaanesh, so she was granted beauty and sorcery, in exchange of her soul. She now controls a stolen Battleship; equipped with the entire planets armory, is a deadly vessel indeed. The ship, now named the "Purple Sun" after the name of Lilith's favorite hallucinogen, it's a deadly maze of death and base delights. Her weapons are an auto pistol and power sword. Her armor is form fitting Carapace armor crossed with an elegant dress.

 **Svonux the Silent** : A Noise marine; this soldier of Chaos can no longer speak normally due to a blessing from Slaanesh; his voice has been changed so that anything above a whisper is a Warp scream. He has an obsession of recording everything he hears, using a daemonically possessed microphone to capture everything; from the laughter of children, to the last beats of an Eldar's heart. He is eight feet two inches tall; with pale, scarred skin as a testament to his battles. Due to his worship of Slaanesh, he has two small horn nubs sprouting of his head. He is Lilith's main enforcer and advisor; bringing some semblance of sense to her erratic plans. His weapons are guitar-like sonic weapon (the old Noise marine weapons), and a power axe.

…

Chapter One: Commanders And Invaders

Loimos POV

Forty Second Millennium

The Art of Illness

I am walking towards the bridge; and as always, I'm smiling. Ever since I had accepted Nurgle as my savoir, the expression never left my face. Life had been good to me, thanks to Grandfather Nurgle's gifts; pain was a distant memory, suffering even more so. My brothers and sisters were a merry lot; always trying to spread the joy of Nurgle's gifts; sadly, the blind zealots of the Imperium didn't see our gifts as something to be desired; and they kill us on sight. But, that doesn't mean we will stop trying; for Nurgle rewards those who persevere. The reason I was making my way to the bridge was that Sarah said that she picked something odd on the radar. Hearing the rumble of large footsteps behind me, I turn around to see my old comrade; Halaphus. The old Dreadnaught has fought by my side for centuries, and we've become good friends since then. His devotion to Nurgle is unwavering, and Nurgle had blessed him because of it.

"Halaphus, my old friend. How are you doing on this lovely day?"

I call out. My comrade only grunted in response; he never seemed to be able to express much emotion, probably because he was abandoned for so long, it would do things to anyone. We still have been working on it however, and improvements have appeared.

Anyways, we loped towards the bridge; which was currently being manned by Sarah; mistress of the Pilgrims; a new convert to the faith. She was always energetic, and always full of good cheer. Her legionaries were formerly of the Penal Legions; from a horrid place that is now lost to the annals of time as it should be. Hearing us enter; she turns, letting us see her face; still full of life, but with the stray boil here and there thanks to Nurgle's gifts to her. Her greying red hair is seen poking out of her Commissar hat, her pale skin showing the early signs of Nurgle's blessings, looking drawn and slightly withered.

She salutes to us, a look of worry on her face.

"Ello boss, we have us a wee bit o a problem ere."

She said, her thick accent making things a little bit difficult to understand at times. Her bright green eyes were flashing with a mix of excitement and worry. The Commissar garbs that she wears had been claimed with Nurgle's mark, blessing them and making them able to endure anything, even if she went on living for all time, those clothes would survive.

"What's the problem my child?"

I ask, wondering what it could be.

" _We're out in the middle of nowhere, so a pirate attack seems the most likely, maybe Greenskins?"_

My thoughts are cut short by the sight of fleets carrying a hated standard by anyone who is a Chaos worshipper: the Inquisition

I activate the ship wide PA system

"Attention all hands! We have Inquisition vessels in our area; all hands to battle stations, no one fire until I give the order!"

My voice blasts throughout the ship, making several of the new recruits to jump to their posts, charging up gun batteries, loading missiles, and warming battle ship engines.

We look at the radar, until a dreaded conclusion reaches us; a fleet of Inquisition ships. Those zealots blindly kill anyone who does not obey their brainwashing. We march towards our posts; me at the helm, I order the first salvos to be launched, and the Warp Drives fired up.

"Where to sir?"

Sarah yells over the commotion

"Anywhere! We can't fight them!"

Halaphus bellows, his command echoing around the room.

As our engines begin to fire up; missiles and laser blast begin blasting our hull; sending us stumbling around. The Imperium ships were trying to take out our engines!

"Póg mo thóin*1 and go hifreann leat!"*2

I hear Sarah shout, her accent and distant Terran ancestries of Irish and Scottish really flaring up in her rare bursts of anger.

I could feel every single salvo being launched, along with every impact of the enemy's weapons into our ship. I don't know how or why the Inquisition is out this far; but I don't care. If they have come for my flock, they'll have to kill this shepherd! I grit my teeth as the Imperium ships get closer and closer; their attacks keep coming, battering our single Despoiler Battleship. We kept firing regardless, if we died; so be it. If we fell, Nurgle would embrace us in his garden, and we shall be there for all time. Our engines finally began to fire up.

"Ere we go! Alright ya gits, hold on to yer magairle*3; cause we're going for a ride!"

Sarah cheers, a smile clear on her face.

The Warp opens up all around us; and no matter how many times I see it; the beauty of it still takes my breath away, if I still needed to breathe mind you. As we launch through the Warp, the trip feels far rougher than usual; with several more bumps and jolts. The colors of the Warp seemed harsher than usual; like the Gods were angry or agitated. Soon, the ship began shaking and rattling, the motions making the ancient metal of this vessel start creaking and groaning. I begin looking around, trying to get some sense of what's going on. No matter how hard I tried the sense of being powerless to stop what was happening still remained. Suddenly, a gurgling voice blasts into my brain, making me collapse to my knees in reverence; for the voice was that of Nurgle himself!

" **My child, something has happened that is outside the natural order of things, most likely Tzeentch's trickery. You are outside my immediate reach. But do not despair my boy; for I am not outside your reach; so persevere and fight on! I shall bless you with the gift of knowledge; for the xenos species don not have the same languages as back home. Do me proud my son and spread my gifts to this new galaxy!"**

And just like that, the voice of the Plague Father fades from my mind, leaving me with a sense of awe and a feeling of purpose. The Plague Father calls and I shall answer!

…

 **2185, close to a space-port on the edge of Citadel Space**

…

Finally, we appear in space that looks far different then what we're used to. No Imperium ships, no feeling of always being hunted; but very little feeling of the Chaos Gods; I mean, it's very faint, but it's there.

"Status report!"

I call out to my crew on the bridge.

"Present"  
Sarah calls back

"Alive"

Halaphus rumbles

Walking around the bridge that there was very little damage internally to the ship, even though we had just been in a large firefight with the Imperium.

After I see that the ship is slightly damaged, but otherwise completely functional, I try to see where we are.

No matches in our data-base.

"What is this?"

I mutter to myself, a wave of unease washing through me; we are in completely unknown space, and we're only a single vessel.

Marching to the ship wide PA, I bellow out

"All head officers, to the bridge, I have important news to tell you all!"

The crew on the bridge looked surprised at my outburst.

"Ey boss? What's the matter?"

Sarah asks with a worried look on her face.

"I shall reveal all when the rest of the head officers arrive."  
I mummer, almost impossible to hear over my gurgling tone.

Soon, many of the head officers, most being former Penal Legionaries, some being my fellow Plague Marines, and we had one Blightcaster on board to advise me on the will of the Grandfather.

Slowly, like decay, we all arrived. They were all seasoned veterans of many wars, some going back to the Horus Heresy so long ago. Taking a deep breath, I begin the news

"Brothers and Sisters; I am afraid to say that I have some bad news. We are no longer in the Forty Second Millennium, nor are we anywhere near Imperium, Greenskin, Tau, Eldar, or our own space. We are in a different universe, completely free of the blind bigotry of the Imperium"

Looking around, I see some of the officers smiling with joy; a universe without being hunted at every turn, and we are still the blessed children of the Plague God.

"However, the Chaos Gods are quite far away from this place as well. We can't spread Nurgle's gifts as easily as we could back home. But fear not my comrades! This universe is full of life, I can feel it, we just need information on what kind it is, and how we can spread the good word of Father Nurgle. But for now, we should hide the ship; I have a feeling that the inhabitants of this galaxy would not kindly to a massive warship outside their doorstep."

"Sarah, grab a small landing party of your legionaries and prepare for some shore leave."

I grin, feeling my old self coming back, one that shall persevere no matter what.

"You got it boss!"

Sarah chirps, her grin as bright as a bolter spewing bullets. She practically skips out of the room, humming a hymn to Nurgle.

Halaphus lumbers out of the door that was made for him alone, saying something about checking inventory.

The other officers drift out of the room; some had looks of excitement at the thought of this new frontier while some had looks of despair at notion of being far from Nurgle's embrace.

This universe shall soon see the gifts of the Plague God, one way or another; they shall see.

…

Forty Second Millennium

Purple Sun

Lilith POV

Swirling lights; that's all I can see. All round me, there's beautiful colors; flashes of red, green and blue; it's the Warp incarnate. The feelings of euphoria and ecstasy rip through my body; bringing the wonderful side effects of those emotions. But, like all wonderful things, it had to end; and the space known as the Materium faded back into existence. That's when I looked down and saw the female figure chained at the foot of my bed. A fresh captive that I caught on a raid of an Imperium world, but what we didn't know was that there was an Adepta Sororitas outpost on that world. It didn't make much difference in the end however, as they were only few in number, and by sheer numbers we overwhelmed them. We couldn't stop them from raising a S.O.S. however, so we rounded up as many captives as we could, and got out of there before the reinforcements arrived. The little lady chained before me was a commander of a unit of Battle Sisters; she fought quite well, but I managed to defeat her, knocking her out and dragging her here.

From her fellow captives, I learned that her name was Ophelia; and I have to say, she was beautiful. With shoulder length brown hair that cascaded down her back, brown eyes, fair skin that would make a model instantly jealous. She had two tattoos, one of a fleur-de-lis on her forearm, and an Aquila on her lower back. Hearing her groan, I look down and see her starting to regain her senses, tugging at her chains. Her head snaps up, eyes of full rage and confusion; as soon as she sees me, her eyes narrow into slits.

"You filthy heretic, you dare imprison me here!"

She howls, trying to lunge at me, but the chains on her arms and neck hold her fast; like the tight embrace of a lover.

"Now, now; that's no way to treat the one woman who is keeping you alive."

I purr, making her pause in her deluded self-righteous rage.

"What are you talking about, you traitorous scum? If you try to deceive me, I'll eviscerate you! "

She rants and roars, her tone making it clear that she'd probably try to do it.

I fix her with a stare that was infused with pure Warp energy, making her pause and look in fear at my display of power. Seeing that I had her attention, I continue my conversation.

"You see, my comrades below deck wanted to have their ways with you. Almost all of them wanted a piece of you, those that didn't were already occupied with your fellow Battle Sisters; oh how they screamed. You must understand, I claimed you as my own; and no one crosses my wishes on my ship. So, you should really be thanking me; unless you'd rather try your luck with the entire crew?"

I can see a shift in her eyes, it changed from outright hostility, to a subdued hate.

She mutters something under her breath, not hearing her, and wanting to establish the fact that I'm in command, I shoot my hand out, and strike her in the throat.

"I didn't hear you, speak up!"

I hiss, feeling a mixture of anger and joy flow through me

Her head whips back, her eyes bulging, and throat heaving; trying to breathe, but couldn't get enough air.

After a few moments, she spoke again.

"For…the…Emperor"

She rasps out.

Pure rage alongside a sadistic streak coming on flows through me; back handing her, I grab the liquid form of Purple Sun, and pour it down her gullet. I can hear her gagging and choking, but her body has to breathe at some point, so it chugs the drug down in order to get air. Soon, her eyes start to dim, and her movements become more and more sluggish; until she finally lies still, completely absorbed in the drug now filling her mind with its effects. Getting up, I reach into the Warp and summon Daemonettes to come up to my chambers. Within moments, two of the Daemons of lust appear in my room, with large grins on their faces.

I point to my bound and chained captive

"Have fun with this one, but don't kill her, I want to slowly break her. Your job is to start this process"

Upon seeing just what my captive was, the Daemonette's faces burst into ones of pure joy, and evil intent.

" **Yes mistress"**

They speak in unison, bowing at the same time.

As I close the door, I can hear laughter from the Daemonettes, and the ripping of clothes.

…

As soon as I exit the door; I see Svonux standing in the shadows; simply listening in on the prisoner's situation. His expression was one of bliss; hearing the noises the Daemonettes made was always an enjoyable sound. His pale and scarred face was twisted into an almost childlike smile; it was always like that when he was listening. Upon seeing me, he jolts back to attention; his massive space marine armor clinking.

Laughing, I reply with

"At ease soldier, there's no need to be formal, we've fought together for so long"

I smirk, watching him relax into his usual position; relaxed.

He simply nods, and was about to walk away; but a massive alarm rips through the ship. I hear my door open, and the Daemonettes poke their heads out; through the small opening in the door, I could my captive face down on the floor, with a brand new tattoo taking up her entire back.

"Whatever you do, don't leave that room till I come back. We have some very rude intruders, probably coming back for our captive here."

Svonux scowls, pulling his guitar like sonic cannon from his back, a look of fury coming into his eyes, growling in his whisper like way, he marched towards the bridge; humming a Greenskin battle song, something about killing and pillaging. We finally reached the bridge, where the helmsman was commanding the ship's main controls; and he looked pissed off. An ancient looking pipe was in his mouth, smoldering and sparking wildly; it matched the fire in his eyes.

"Hey boss, seems some Imperium bastards followed us all the way here. Can we murder them when they try to board us?"

His gruff voice rumbled out, sounding like a heavy smoker talking through the blades of a fan.

Grinning, I begin getting waves of euphoria flow through me as I start imagining the beautiful arcs of crimson that shall soon adorn my ships walls.

"Let's have some fun"

I say smugly. The rest of my crew begin smiling like Christmas came early; I guess it has, if you call the Imperial guards presents, all that we have to do is unwrap them.

…

3rd Person POV

John Ellis was a simple man; he was a Guardsman, he fought the enemies of the Imperium; sure it wasn't an easy job, but it was the only one he had.

His regiment had arrived on the planet below after a S.O.S. call had been broadcasted to whatever Imperium fort was nearby; something about Slaanesh cultists. They had boarded their ship when they saw that the entire colony had been wiped out; or worse, taken to be the crews "entertainment". The cultist's ship wasn't very hard to track; it was a battleship, not too big, not too small either. It was the perfect mix of speed and power. They boarded with relative ease, and the ship seemed to be empty. The halls, once plain and grey; and been turned into a horrifying collage of garish colors and ghastly carnal acts. Some of the captives; well what remained of them anyway, could be seen on the walls; splattered like a bunch of overripe melons and as the guardsmen walked down the corridors; they could hear faint noises, like a garbled radio transmission. Soon, it got louder and louder, until they could hear what was going on clear as day. It was a massive rave; full of flashing lights and crazy music; it would have looked wonderful; but if you looked closely, you could see the horror underneath the glamour; bodies were randomly piled up in a crude notion of artistic pursuit, the stench of drugs mixed with sweat and blood permeated the air. It hung like a wet cloak; sticking to everything; a few of the more light hearted guardsmen retched, but they were forced forwards by the Commissar behind them.

Just as they were going to charge in; everything stopped; the music cut off, the lights went out, even the breathing noises stopped. It was eerily calm and quiet; like all the animals had run away from an incoming storm that humans can't see until it's too late.

As soon as the quiet began, it ended; with a single set of hands clapping; and a woman's voice laughing. It was a siren's call, bewitching many of the already freaked out guards, some had been affected by the leftover drugs in the air that left them weak willed and oblivious. The lights flickered back on slowly, so they could see just how many of the cultists there were in this ship of base delights. There was a mixture of Traitor Guardsmen, cultists and even a couple of Chaos Space Marines. After the crew, they could see the victims; the ones that still lived probably wished otherwise; as they looked absolutely devastated, especially some of the newer Battle Sisters; their Vows of Chastity forever gone, their innocence despoiled for all time. The crew far outnumbered the Guardsmen, so while most of the cultists were smiling evilly; some of them looked furious at the Guards arrival.

The woman began to speak, her voice sultry and melodious.

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here; a couple of lost lambs that wandered into the slaughterhouse. So, will lay down your arms and do this the easy way? Or will you resist, to be honest I hope you go down that road; I love it when they struggle."

While she was talking, the lights finally showed light on the speaker; and more than one of the guardsmen gasped. She was unearthly beautiful; with hair as black as the void of space; blue eyes that drew you in and wouldn't let you go no matter what. Her features made some of the younger men weep; her beauty was that intense. It wasn't natural however, that much was clear; but that didn't stop some of the guardsmen to surrender themselves to the ruthless cultists. The rest of the squad rallied themselves; and raised their Lasguns, teeth gritted, and hearts beating wildly.

The woman grinned, her armor and dress swishing seductively as she walked towards the squad.

"Good, you've chosen to struggle; I love it when you people do it."

Her grin was playful, but her eyes showed murderous intent.

She grabbed her powersword that was hanging at her side, and raised it into the air.

"Get em boys!"

She shouted, glee on her face; and with that, the cultists surged forwards, looks of pleasure overtaking their faces ads they began gutting and hacking away at the doomed guardsmen.

The head lady marched over to John, swinging her sword and smiling teasingly at him. John knew that he was going to die, but he couldn't help but stare at the beautiful woman before him. As quick as he could blink, she was right behind him; slashing at his legs; making him collapse to the ground, screaming in agony as he saw the now useless legs fall to the ground. He tried to crawl away, but she impaled him through the shoulder, pinning him to the ground. Tearing the blade out, the woman flipped John around so he could see her face.

She leaned in and grabbed his face.

Her lips against his; that was the last thing that John Ellis would ever feel, and the sight of the woman's face would be the last thing he would ever see. He could feel himself floating away, far away, until oblivion claimed him.

…

Lilith POV

"That was fun, can we do it again?"

I hear one of the newer cultists ask, followed by the laughter of his fellows.

"Soon darling, soon; but first, we have to leave the area. As much as I'd love to get my hands on some more Imperials; we cannot take on an entire armada."

I state, many of the underlings nodding and murmuring amongst themselves.

Smiling, I look over and see Svonux standing on top of a small pile of bodies, holding the Daemonic microphone to the cadavers as he blasts them apart with his sonic cannon, grinning wildly, a harsh light in his eyes as he decimates their corpses in praise to She Who Thirsts.

Marching towards the bridge, I can hear some of the guardsmen who had surrendered before the battle being either converted or executed by some Daemonttes or very devout cultists; either way, they would lose their innocence today, either by bolter or flesh, they will lose it today. I could hear praises to Slaanesh dimly echoing through the halls as my troops celebrate their victories. Finally I arrive at the bridge, where the helmsman was happily carving a grin into one of our brand new convert's face

"Ya just gotta hold still, if I go up anymore, I'll take out an eye."

Ignoring him, I begin firing up the engines and the Warp Drives, and almost instantly; the awe-inspiring colors of the space that the Chaos Gods call home surround the ship, ending us towards wherever is away from here. Suddenly, the journey stops.

 **2185: Near Omega**

…

"What the hell happened"  
I bark, confused as to why this happened. The helmsman looked just as confused as I did. We check the long range scanners; but find no planets in the area; however, there was a massive asteroid or small moon, but upon further scanning, we saw that it was a space station.

I heard one of the new recruits mutter something under his breath; it sounded like

"That's no moon, that's a space station"

Almost everyone on the bridge looked at him with a confused look on their faces

"Nevermind…"

His voice trails off in embarrassment.

We immediately forget about this comment however because a small fleet of ships are on the radar; and they're closing in fast.

So, we are completely unknown territory, a fleet of ships closing in, and we're only one vessel. Shit, looks like it's my birthday.

…

Space Port

Sarah POV

I walk down the hall, grinning like a loon; just happy to be on the move again. Being locked up in that ship for a couple o months had left me a wee bit crazy; humming an old song I could barely remember from way back in the day; I walked into the barracks. Upon seeing me, many of my comrades, along with the newer recruits jump into a salute.

Laughing, I wave them down

"At ease, ya gits; yer making me all riddy*5. Now come on lads, we got us a little o shore leave."

Several of the lads and lassies began jumping about and doing a jig of some kind; with looks of excitement that look like they belong on children on their faces.

I picked a good two dozen of us, all grabbing their weapons and side arms; wanting to make a good first impression on whatever's out there. Marching out of the barracks, and down to the hanger, a couple of the older recruits begin singing an ancient tune; somehow remembered by the Terran descendants of Irish freedom fighters. The guerrilla warfare group that sang it had rebelled against their government; it seemed fitting that we, the so called traitors would sing the same thing.

" _I was born in the Dublin street_ _  
_ _Where the loyal drums do beat,_ _  
_ _And the loving English feet walked all over us;_ _  
_ _And every single night when me dad would come home tight,_ _  
_ _He'd invite the neighbours out with this chorus:_ __

 _Come out you black and tans,_ _  
_ _Come out and fight me like a man,_ _  
_ _Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders;_ _  
_ _Tell her how the IRA made you run like hell away,_ _  
_ _From the green and lovely lanes of Killeshandra._ __

 _Come tell us how you slew_ _  
_ _Them ol' Arabs two by two,_ _  
_ _Like the Zulus they had knives and bows and arrows;_ _  
_ _Of how bravely you faced one with your sixteen-pounder gun,_ _  
_ _And you frightened all the natives to the marrow._ __

 _Come out you black and tans,_ _  
_ _Come out and fight me like a man,_ _  
_ _Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders;_ _  
_ _Tell her how the IRA made you run like hell away,_ _  
_ _From the green and lovely lanes of Killeshandra._ __

 _Come let us hear you tell_ _  
_ _How you slammed the brave Parnell,_ _  
_ _And taught him well and truly persecuted;_ _  
_ _Where are the stares and jeers that you proudly let us hear,_ _  
_ _When our heroes of sixteen were executed._ __

 _Come out you black and tans,_ _  
_ _Come out and fight me like a man,_ _  
_ _Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders;_ _  
_ _Tell her how the IRA made you run like hell away,_ _  
_ _From the green and lovely lanes of Killeshandra._ __

 _Oh! Come out you British Huns,_ _  
_ _Come out and fight without your guns,_ _  
_ _Show your wife how you won medals up in Derry;_ _  
_ _You murdered sixteen men and you'll do the same again,_ _  
_ _So get out of here and take your bloody army._ __

 _Come out you black and tans,_ _  
_ _Come out and fight me like a man,_ _  
_ _Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders;_ _  
_ _Tell her how the IRA made you run like hell away,_ _  
_ _From the green and lovely lanes of Killeshandra._ __

 _Oh! Come out you black and tans,_ _  
_ _Come out and fight me like a man,_ _  
_ _Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders;_ _  
_ _Tell her how the IRA made you run like hell away,_ _  
_ _From the green and lovely lanes of Killeshandra."_

While singing, we had boarded the ship and blasted off into the void of space; repeating the chorus over and over; full of good cheer and vigor; ready to take on this new universe. We soon found ourselves in the xenos spaceport; it was familiar, but foreign at the same time. Strange spaceships were everywhere; some looking like something an Eldar would make, all shiny and chrome; while some looked like an Ork's dream ship; full of boosters, gun ports, and other Orkie things.

We had landed our ship, and as soon as we had left our vessel; we were hit with noise; xenos and human, cheerful, and not so much. We were getting some odd looks from several folks; probably jealous 'bout our weapons and the like. We saw a building with xenos script, but from the people surrounding it, and the sounds coming from within; it's a bar.

We all enter the bar, and find it quite full of these weird bird looking thingies with mouth claws on the edge o their maws, and a shell like covering on their bodies. I sat down and ordered the strongest stuff they got. The waitress, a blue skinned alien that wasn't that bad looking smiled at me, and gave me my drink; giving her the only currency I had on me; I received a weird look, but she (I assumed it was she, based on the face and body type), shrugged and took it. As I'm sitting down, I hear amazing things; from slaver empires, to crime lords, to an all female race (the blue one I saw earlier). It was a huge difference from back home; where the only humans who associate with aliens are heretics; to see humans easily mingling was a nice change.

My attention was drawn two very large armored xenos talking in deep gravelly voices.

"Just got off Tuchanka; place was worse than when I left. Thanks to the blasted Genophage, my wife just had another stillborn. Damned Salarians and damned Turians"

I continue listening, and start feeling rage worthy of a Khorne worshipper fill my veins. These two races; Salarians and Turians; infected this race, the Krogan; to be practically incapable of having children, and because of that, they're slowly dying out as a species. It is an affront to Nurgle! A plague that ends life instead of creating life for something else? It's an abomination that must be destroyed!

Getting up, I marched over to where the two Krogan were sitting. They were immediately suspicious of me; not liking many other races. But after many, many drinks; they began to open up. Crorloc Branak was an older Krogan, reaching around two hundred in human years; and was blind in one eye to do a war injury. The younger one was Ritarog Terg; a Krogan of around fifty; full of fire and rage. Ritarog's wife was the one that had given a stillbirth; giving the young xenos much to drink to; mainly, the life of his child that shall never occur now; thanks to the races who were too weak to fight back. Long into our conversation; a Turian that looked like it had way too much to drink staggered towards our table.

"What do you want, Turian?"

Crorloc spat out, his one good eye burning with anger

The Turian lurched towards, his eyes unfocused and they had a muddy look to them; the liquor must have been extremely potent.

"Y-you filthy bastards, ya can't do anything right. Ya c-can't even have kids right!"

He hollered loudly, causing many of the Korgans in the bar start growling and reaching for whatever was nearby to start cracking skulls. The Turains slowly started shifting into combat stances, ready to fight.

I beat them to it; wanting to get rid of the rage currently clouding my mind, and to get the Korgans to trust me; from the sounds of things, Loimos could help them overcome the Genophage.

I grabbed the bottle of potent liquor; and smashed it into the drunk's face; sending him reeling back with blood spraying everywhere. It was like someone had flipped a switch; everybody went nuts. Turains started pummeling the Krogan with fists and feet; while Krogan started grabbing tables and chairs; and promptly began throwing them at their Avian descended foes. The bar became a cacophony of noise; from Krogan roars, to Turian battle cries, to Human screams of rage or confusion. I saw a Krogan lift a table with a couple of Turians over his head and threw it out a window; xenos and all. In another corner I could see three Turian teenagers trying to take on a couple of human mercenaries; and in the middle of it all; stood my squad, they had formed a ring around my two Krogan allies and were dealing massive amounts of pain to anyone who came close. The two Krogan looked surprised at our intervention on their behalf, but were laughing and charging into Turians like bowling balls. I decided to join in to the grand melee, bashing many a Turian with a table leg or a bar stool. The fight was broken up by some kind of internal security; so our group booked it out of there; laughing the entire time.

We found ourselves near the hanger, and that's when Crorloc asked me

"Why did you help us? Not that I'm ungrateful or anything, but nobody does anything for free, what do ya want in return?"

I look at him; surprised that he thought that we'd want something out of our goodwill.

"We don't want anything from you; but we were wondering if you'd be willing to talk to our boss; he'd be eager to help your people get rid of the Genophage"

The two Krogan looked at each other; complete surprise and mistrust on their faces

After many minutes of muttering to each other, they nodded. And with that we marched to the shuttle. After boarding our shuttle, we flew back to the Illness; where Halaphus would talk to them before Loimos would speak with them. As soon as we arrived on board; we could hear our brothers and sisters cheering as we arrived; happy to see us again. The Krogan were taken completely off guard by our attitudes, they looked like one of us had grown wings or a second head. Their eyes began widening when they saw the putrid flesh of some of my more blessed comrades; causing them to grip their weapons ever tighter.

The cheers of my brothers and sisters echoed through the halls, and several of the crew ran up and asked us about what we saw. Chuckling, I gently waved them off and asked them to fetch Halaphus and Loimos. We marched into the bridge to find Halaphus already waiting for us; and I could hear Ritarog whisper to his friend

"Where can I get one of those?"  
Laughing, I turn to them, and was about to answer them, but the Dreadnaught had beaten me to it.

"I'm afraid you can't buy me, I'm one of a kind."

He rumbled out, his deep brass voice echoing through the chamber. If you looked closely, or if you knew where to look, you could see some Nurglings crawling around inside his chassis.

He continued explaining to the Krogan what we were.

"We are an organization whose mission is to unite all life through strength. The strength to defeat pestilence to be exact, we fight to undo any slight against the natural order of things; the universe will be reborn, and we are helping pave the way for the strongest among us to live on."

The Krogan looked at each other and started muttering to each other, looks of determination on their faces.

"We'll join you, anything to spit in the faces of those bastards"

Ritarog spit out, eyes blazing at the mere thought of his hated foes.

A deep gurgling laughing boomed through the bridge, making the Korgan jump

"Who's there?"

Crorloc called out, turning to us he asks

"Who the hell is that?"

He looks slightly unnerved by the disembodied voice.

"It's the captain of the ship, and our leader; Loimos RotGut."

I say, feeling pride upon saying his name; he had saved me long ago, and I owe him everything, so in turn, I owe Nurgle all I am.

The door opens, and Loimos walks in; completely encased in the near ancient MkIII power armor, with the Thunder Warriors helm on, leaving none able to see his face. The corroded helm looked like it was weeping plagues, with green fluid slowly leaking out the mouth and eye slits. His Eviscerator was over his shoulder, the metal now rusted and worn through the over ten thousand years of war. His bolter was at his side, also worn from the centuries of conflict. He kept laughing, a jolly sound coming from his helm.

"Welcome my friends! Welcome to my ship; the Art of Illness; I'm so happy that you've decided to join us. So, where do you want to go?"  
His voice booms at the two Krogan.

They looked almost panicked at the sight of Loimos; they stumbled backwards. Aiming their weapons at him; fear taking over their faces. When they saw that he wasn't going to attack them, they lowered their weapons, and reply.

"Tuchanka, we want to go home and fix what those cowards did to us"

They growl. Loimos asked for information on the situation so he'd know how many brothers and sisters they'd be able to bring. After a couple of minutes of talking; Loimos returned and patted me on the head.

"You did good Sarah; you've given us a target, new recruits and purpose in this new galaxy. You've made me very proud."

His compliments made me smile, joy easily popping up. He walks over to the PA syatem, and belts out his orders.

"Attention all hands! We have a target, and a mission. We're going to Tuchanka, home of the Krogan race; they have been gravely wronged by the cowardly races known as Turians and Salarians. Long live Nurgle, and let's free these poor folks from this injustice!"

Across the ship, I could hear several crew members cheer, eager to get moving. It's off to Tuchanka and beyond!

…

Ophelia POV

Purple Sun

When I awoke from my drug-induced slumber; two things rushed in immediately.

The first was a dull pain that drummed between her eyes; the remains of the Purple Sun in her system that psychotic bitch had forced down my throat.

The second was lines of burning pain that blazed on my back; causing me to whimper in pain as I attempted to move across the floor. Mustering my last remains of strength, I pushed myself into a sitting position at the foot of my captor's bed; and gingerly reached around and felt my lower back. I winced in pain as I felt a felt a mass of scar tissue where my Aquila used to be.

" _Those heretic bastards! They dare deface the Emperor's holy symbol!?"_

I fume to myself angrily.

However, as I felt my lower back, I noticed that this part hurt less then my lower back did. Grunting in pain as my muscles protested; I felt more scar tissue that formed a completely unknown symbol on my back.

As soon as I touched it; my skin felt like it was on fire; I tried to scream in agony; but it changed into a moan of pleasure as the horrible agony flipped into the most overwhelming feeling of pleasure I had ever felt in my life. This cycle of blinding pain and mind numbing pleasure continued for a full twenty minutes; until finally, it ended; leaving me drained of energy as the sensations finally stopped.

Sleep began to claim me, and my final thought was one of fear

" _What has been done to me?"_

…

Vocabulary used:

*1: Scottish for Kiss my Arse

*2: Irish for go to Hell!

*3: Scottish for bollocks

*4: Scottish for embarrassed


	2. Lust and Rot

Chapter Two: Lust and Rot

…

Purple Sun

Lilith POV

The ships get closer, and I could start making out the details on them; a wonderful mutation granted by She Who Thirsts.

They weren't Imperium ships, that much was certain. They were crude looking, barely above Greenskin levels of standards. But, what they lacked in appearance, they made up for in firepower; battering us with whatever slugthrowers that they had on board. The lasers did next to nothing to our shields, merely causing us to stumble around a bit.

A loud grinding noise caused to whirl around in alarm.

"Mistress, they be boarding us!"

The helmsman cried out, his eyes burning in rage.

"I will lead the charge"

Svonux whispered, a look of pleasure taking over his features.

"I have waited too long for a fight; and I shall finally have one here."

He rasped out, eager to begin.

Nodding, I wave him off, and he runs out of the bridge; towards the barracks or wherever the new recruits would be. Soon, a small group of new recruits, cultists, and about two Daemonettes had gathered near the point of where the boarding would occur. From the bridge, I could hear praise to She Who Thirsts, along with Daemonic chants and worship. I could hear Svonux blasting away with his sonic cannon; along with the screams of the dying.

"Let the games begin"

I whisper, eager for the massacre to come.

…

Svonux POV

Boarding area

My troops had taken up position near the point of entry; I had ordered the rest of the fighters to take up defences on other parts of the ship; for it would be foolish to only think our foe would come through one chokepoint. I could see a trail of fire on the hanger door; proof that our invaders were coming here. Suddenly, the doors burst open, and strange beings pour out; some were blue skinned females, some were grey skinned beings with four eyes; and lastly, some were humans. None of them were from any species I know of, save humans; but from the look of them, they were not with the Imperium; they didn't reek of bigotry. Their armour was simple but effective. As soon as we saw them, I ordered my men to attack, and bolter fire, along with lasguns, and even some spells were the result. The intruders looked completely dumbstruck; like they had never seen magic before. The smarter ones tried to hide behind cover, while the less intelligent ones were cut down; screaming in Xenos tongues or a strange form of Low Gothic. As the Daemonettes charged, the intruders looked completely dumbfounded at the sight of the Daemons of Slaanesh; seeing their pause, the Daemonettes charged forwards laughing and giggling as they carved a bloody path through our intruders; the lucky ones died, while the unlucky ones were pulled into the dark corners of the corridor to be used as "entertainment" for later. Their favourite ones to take were the blue skinned females; they proved to be capable of using an odd form of magic; it was a bright blue, and they didn't appear to have the same mutations that usually come with using the pure power of the Warp.

" _Something to worry about later; now, it's time to fight!"_

I mentally scold myself, jumping into the fray, enemy fire bouncing off my armour easily. Without pomp or ceremony, I open fire with my sonic cannon; a beautiful sound blasted forth; causing many of the interlopers to drop to their knees, their ears bleeding. Some of them started dropping, bleeding out their liquefied organs through their mouths, some of them exploded; showering their former comrades, as well as the halls with gore. After seeing this, many of the pitiful wretches began screaming in a mix of rage and terror. Hearing another grinding noise; followed by bolter fire; I realize that there was more invaders than this one group, this bunch was a distraction; these guys were smarter than we originally thought.

" _I hope everything is going OK"_

I think

…

Ophelia

POV

Lilith's chambers

I awoke to hearing bolter fire, yells and screams. From the sounds of things, my captors had been attacked; and I began yelling for help, it could be some Imperial Guardsmen, Space Marines; maybe some of my Sisters here to rescue me.

My hopes were immediately dashed against the rocks of reality as my door bursts open; revealing a blue skinned Xeno and a human male. The human looks at me; his face scarred and battered with an ugly grin on his face.

"Hey Lainra, check this little number out, whaddya say, ya want ta try her out before we go back ta the rest of the crew?"

He cackled and it was an ugly sound that sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

The blue skinned Xenos; whose name was apparently Lainra spoke; her soft was soft, but harsh; she spoke with a lustful grin that made my skin crawl.

"Alright, she looks like fun. From the looks of things, this'll be her first time. Brandon, I'll meld with her, you go wild."

They closed in, grins on their faces.

" _Nononononononononononononononono. This cannot be happening! No. I WILL NOT LET THIS HAPPEN!"_

Roaring, I surge forwards, using my chains to wrap around the Xenos's throat, digging into her skin, causing her blue blood to leak out a bit. In my frenzy, I start biting the Xenos, I wrap my teeth around her windpipe, and chomp down with all my might. I feel it snap; and hear her gurgle; trying in vain to stop her bleeding. Finally, she collapsed to the ground, her dead eyes staring at me. I grab her knife that was sheathed at her side and look around. Before I could do anything however; her comrade tackled me to the ground; hands wrapping around my neck, roaring at me.

Screaming, I plunged the knife into his stomach, causing his eyes to bulge open, his hands still having a death grip on my neck. I keep stabbing, screaming all the while; I don't realize how much time had passed; until I look around and see just how much damage I did. The man's guts were strung across the room like macabre party decorations; his internal organs were mush; hacked to bits in my frenzy. I snapped back into reality when I heard the door open and a very familiar voice.

"And here I thought the fight was kicked out of you; and yet, here you are; my little pet, already displaying a sense of artistic flair. I'm so proud."

Lilith wipes imaginary tears off her face. The weight of what I just did finally hits me; causing me to feel a little bit light headed. Sure I've killed before, but after looking around I see that I had spread out the bodies similar to these heretics often do; in a perverted sense of art.

Seeing my chance to get some vengeance against my captors, I lunge towards my captor with the dagger raised; feeling rage boiling within me. But she was too fast, ducking out of the way of the blade's arc, and hits me in the face. Falling backwards, Lilith spring on top of me and begins stroking the mark on my back causing waves of pain, followed by brain blasting pleasure to rip through me. I open my mouth to try to tell her to stop, but she leans in and gives me a kiss; her eyes flashing with light. Breaking contact, she stands up, leaving me in the thrall of whatever sorcery they inflicted on me.

"As I told you, you belong to me. And I wasn't kidding when I told you I was proud. Keep it up, and there'll be more where that came from."

She leaves the room; and the last thing I hear before I passed out is the door closing shut; followed by the lock clicking.

Lilith POV

I look down on my little pet, her beautiful face covered in blood from her kills. Grabbing the chains that lay across the room; I tug her to her feet, her body under my control thanks to the spell I cast on her. Pulling her along, I notice that the fighting has stopped; and from the cheers; the winners were us. Still tugging my prize behind me, I walked down towards the hanger; I'm told that's where the prisoners are being kept.

Most of the prisoners were wounded; some had already been "tried out" by some of the overzealous cultists or a Daemonette that couldn't control herself. Once they saw me, they began shouting at me in foreign Xenos tongues and a garbled Low Gothic. Svonux grabbed one of the humans and used his Warp Scream to full effect by screaming into his face; making his head explode, eyeballs flying across the room and his brains splattering across his armour. Grinning, he stepped back, his message clear; screw with us, and pay the price. The shouting stopped immediately; as many of the pirates had chunks of their comrade all over them. We clearly had a language barrier, so I decided to try a trick I saw a Psyker do once.

Grabbing one of the blue females, and one of the humans, I reach into their minds; causing them to collapse to their knees in pain; screaming bloody murder and pure agony as I tore into their minds to get the information I wanted. Unlike Pyskers, who could make the experience somewhat bearable should they wish; I didn't bother such luxuries for my victims. If they survived, good for them, but most didn't; their minds completely shattered. Finally, I had everything I needed; and as soon as I did, their garbled language suddenly made sense.

Grabbing the blue one's face, I whisper into her ear

"Can you understand me?"

She looked at me; her eyes watering from the pain I had just put her through.

"Y-yes I c-can."

She stammers with her face one of pure fear.

"Good, now; I want you to tell me where you came from, and who your boss is. If you do this, I'll let you go."

She told me everything; and with the human chipping in every once and a while I learned much. Turns out, these little intruders were from a place called Omega, and they were led by a being called Aria T'Loak. After they told me everything I need to know; I turn to Svonux and order

"Take them down below, I'm all of you are stressed out and need something to relive your stress. Have fun, you've earned it."

I order, causing many of the captives to cry out; to beg and plead. Turning away from the wretches, their voices were cut off by the hoots and cheers of my forces; there was around twenty captives left alive, and around sixty or so of my troops that earned the right for some fun; looks like they're going to be sharing some of the captives.

"Now, I do believe that we have an appointment at Omega. Let's show this new galaxy what we can do!"

I shout; my troops cheering and bellowing, eager to spill some blood and see what this universe has to offer. Hearing a grunt, I look over to see my captive regaining her wits, trying to gain some control over her situation. We couldn't have that, so I grabbed her face, opened her eyes; and began casting a spell.

This one was special because it totally changes one's perception on everything around them; the Battle Sister would never fight for us "heretics", but if she thought she was fighting for her former comrades, she'd gladly go into battle. As soon as the spell took hold, I take off her chains, but add a leash; for I don't want my zealous prisoner to run off on me. Once her chains were off, she saluted me and stood to attention.

"Retributor Ophelia reporting for duty, what are your orders?"

She states, her eyes clouded from the illusion; she really thinks she's back with her blind sisters.

"Your orders are to follow my command, to be my escort onto the field of battle. We have seen a large group of Xenos gathering in a space station. Kill everything that stands in your way!"

I bark, ignoring the snickers of my troops who were amused at the scene before them. My little thrall follows me like a good little soldier into the armoury where I kept her weapons as a trophy. Her armour had been melted down into nothing; we needed none of the "blessed" armour of the Corpse God's warriors. I did however have a suit of "armour" I had claimed from defeating a Dark Eldar Wych. Her Wychsuit was black as a Dark Eldar's soul; deliciously indecent as it only covered half of her body. But in Ophelia's bewitched mind, it's her "holy" armour. Seeing as her other half of her body is practically naked, I decide to do her a favour and paint it up. With swirling colours and Daemonic markings; she was glowing with the blessing of Slaanesh, but her deluded mind, it's the blessing of the "emperor". Handing my slave her weapons; a Flamer and a Chainsword; we march out of the armoury and towards the shuttle where my honour guard awaits. I'm not taking everyone until we gain a foothold in our target, it would be foolish and waste of time if we got jammed up in an enemy base. As soon as the troops saw Ophelia, hoots, whistles and catcalls echoed through the shuttle; from the simple cultists, to the hardened Chaos Space Marines. And it easy to see why they were attracted to my captive; her beauty was already there, it was just that the blessing of She Who Thirsts made it stand out. Our shuttle had blasted off towards the space station; I could feel the more zealous cultists start getting hyped towards the battle; carving gashes into their skin, smiles onto their cheeks. Some began taking combat stims to get ready for the fight. As we got closer to the station we got a transmission from the station.

"Alright, who the hell are you people?"

I roll my eyes at the false bravado the voice on the other end of the vox had.

"We're Lilith's Dancing Court, asshole. I suggest you idiots get ready for a lot of pain when arrive on your shit hole space station; if you surrender now, we may even let you join in on the fun"

I remark, hoping to rattle the voice on the other end.

The voice on the other end barked back

"I've never heard of you shitheads, but you made a huge mistake screwing with us…"

Upon hearing this, I cut the transmission; the fool wasn't getting us anywhere. Shifting to the ship wide channel, I belt out

"Listen up everyone! We have a mission; we get a foothold in this space station, and kill anyone who tries to stop us! For Slaanesh! For She Who Thirsts!"

The troops hooted and hollered, looks of excitement on their faces; but the most zealous of the group was Ophelia, she roared and spat; her entranced eyes burning with rage, and the symbols I had scrawled on her body glowed; further influencing her mind.

" _This is going to be fun!"_

I muse to myself, eager to begin.

...

Omega Docks

As soon as we landed on the docks, bullets flew towards us, causing many of the cannon fodder cultists crumpling to the ground, with blood spewing from their bodies like grisly fountains and having many new breathing holes being made in their bodies. Some of the Traitor Guardsmen took up positions where they could and began returning fire; lasers and bullets began firing back towards our assailants; screams and swear words being the response. Many of the more zealous cultists charged forwards with blades, bayonets, and simple clubs in hand; each hoping to crush skulls beneath their weapons. Many were getting cut down, as our foes were sticking to guns; not daring to engage us in close combat. But some managed to get close, and when they did, they rushed into close combat and began decimating the enemy lines; many had their way with the dying on the battlefield; defiling and killing as they went.

"It appears our foes fight like Tau, they rely on ranged weapons. Cowards, I hope the Xenos scum burn"

I hear Ophelia remark, her grip tightening on her Flamer, literally shaking with excitement at the thought killing something.

Smirking, I begin walking towards the firefight, my thrall walking behind me, launching the odd gout of fire to relive some of her tension. Soon, we began making progress as we had sheer numbers on our side. The cultists began becoming more and more reckless; running towards enemy lines laughing and praising Slaanesh. Several of the enemy fighters began retreating; screaming in terror at our approach.

"Halt!"

I shout over the din of the sounds of the dying, and the grunts of the cultists enjoying their "prizes" of war. It took a while, as many of the cultists were either far too high, drunk, or in ecstasy to notice anything. After they were lucid enough to take orders, we began setting us camp. Soon, banners for She Who Thirsts flew proudly on this space station; followed by a small barracks being built and reinforcements were arriving thanks to several small shuttles being shipped into the space station. With the hanger under my control, we have a foothold here; and we can launch a larger campaign to capture this place.

" _This place shall be mine!"_

I promise myself; eager for this universe to see what we can do.

…

Loimos POV

Art of Illness

The flight to Tuchanka was quiet; no one was in the area anyways as the Krogan are not well liked for some odd reason; they are harsh and strong, perfect for Nurgle's children. Throughout the ship, I could hear singing and dancing as the troops prepared for landing. The two Krogan; Ritarog and Crorloc had fully accepted Nurgle's blessings, His mark on their skin, oozing with holy pestilence. As I marched towards the shuttles; I bumped into the Blightcaster and head priest onboard the Illness; Akakios Blightspewer. The ancient man looked at me with reverence and respect; I had saved him from being burned alive by his former comrades of the Ecclesiarchy; upon his salvation from the pyre, he pledged his soul to Nurgle, and in turn, swore his loyalty to the Plague Father's champion. The old man was everyone's wise father figure; many new converts went to him for wisdom and advice on the will of the Grandfather. He leaned heavily on his staff; which had been blessed by a Great Unclean One. Despite his age, his eyes glowed with power, and his muscles were still strong; Rigor Mortis giving him a slow and plodding gait. Bowing his head and saluting me, he spoke a greeting; his voice low and wise.

"Noble champion; you grace me with your presence. I am going to the shuttle bay to preach to the troops; would you care to join me?"

Nodding, I followed the old man towards the shuttle bay, humming happily to myself. As we walked into the shuttle bay, the army of the faithful knelt in the presence of Akakios, showing respect for Nurgle's prophet. He walked to a small stand that had been set up for him to give a speech; he looked out at the crowd, now standing at attention; ready to hear what he has to say. He takes in a deep breath, and spreads his arms out in a sweeping gesture.

"My children! Hear my words; today we find ourselves in a strange universe, one full of ignorance and war; much like back home. In the short time we have been here; we have had reports of the weak using a mockery of the Plague Father's gifts to oppress and slowly kill off a entire species!"

Upon hearing this, many of the faithful began spitting and cursing at the cowardice of our foes; rare looks of anger on their faces, even some of my Chaos Space Marines had looks of hate on their features.

Silencing the crowd with a wave of his hand; Akakios continued speaking; his voice getting louder as his speech drew on.

"Yes, tis true that these Xenos resort to mocking Nurgle in a attempt to defeat their foes; the mighty Krogan. Your commander Sarah had found two Krogan and managed to convert them. Because of the Xenos's interference with the natural order; one of the Krogan; Ritarog, had lost his child to this abomination! He is not the first, and unless we stop it, he will not be the last. So I ask you brothers and sisters, what will you do? Will you run like the blind loyalists? Or will you stand and fight?"

The room exploded into a cacophony of roars, cheers, and battle cries. Every single one of the faithful was ready for battle, ready to shed blood in Nurgle's name. Akakios stepped off the stand, and walked back to me with a look of contentment on his face.

"That's how you rally the faithful"

He said with happiness in his eyes, it was the look of a man who had done a good job. I look over and see Sarah grinning, a look of eagerness in her eyes. I walk over to her and give her squad their orders

"You are to make first contact with the Krogan; you will be bringing Crorloc and Ritarog with you to be a familiar face to them. If diplomacy on your part fails, we will be waiting to drop down and help."  
Sarah nods, her smile being replaced with a look of determination; the look of a commander going into battle. I look at my troops, and I know; this will have massive implications for us; either we win, or we get wiped out. It's all or nothing; sounds like a good time waiting to happen.

…..

Chapter 2 down, many more to go! I love this job.

Sorry for nothing for so long, loyal viewers, random people who wandered in, or someone who clicked in here by mistake; thanks for reading. As always; stay classy, stay awesome, and have a lovely day.


	3. Rigor Mortis and Broken Bones

Hello everyone, Tis I, Doomeater! This will be the last thing I will be able to post in a while, as I am going to China over the Spring Break. You can still message me and all that jazz, but I will not be able to answer for the two weeks I am in China. I hope you enjoy this, so sit back, and enjoy the show.

Nurgle war song: In the Land of the Pigs, the Butcher is King by Meatloaf.

…...

Rigor Mortis and Broken Bones

3rd Person POV

Tuchanka

Tuchanka; the home of the Krogan, and it was slowly dying. Ever since the Krogan Rebellions, and the release of the Genophage, the species have been slowly dying out, little by little. Years of infighting led to a nuclear war that decimated the planet. The Krogan race is a dwindling force in the galaxy, and it's looking for a way to get their glory back, at any cost. And now, something else has come to Tuchanka, something new. And it starts now; from a little comms station and a chief of a small clan shall change the fate of the Krogan for all time.

…..

Baash Vrark was in deep shit. It all started with that message from outside the planet, a man asking for permission to land on planet; in exchange for weapons and supplies to help him out. Baash wasn't stupid, but something he is was greedy. He agreed eager for weapons to expand his influence across more territory. He gave the voice on the other end coordinates to land, and waited. A small drop ship was floating down to where he and his warriors waited. It was strange looking, with alien looking symbols carved into the blackened and twisted hull. As soon as it had landed, the doors opened, and several humans marched out all of them dirty and hardened from countless battles. Baash could tell just from looking at them that they would not go down easily. Their weapons were greatly varied; from large shotgun looking weapons, to guns that vaguely resembled assault rifles. The troops made room for a red woman wearing a tattered and worn coat and hat with an unknown symbol on the front of each. It was three circles joined together. Her face was withered, like she had been left outside in the sun for years as her skin had slightly been turned into leather. Despite this, she still smiled cheerfully, almost like a child. With a voice that sounded like someone who had been pleasantly surprised, she spoke

"Ello there! You must be the lads we're supposed to be having a wee chat with eh?"

She chirped, her smile slightly disarming some of the warriors. If only they knew whom, or what they were dealing with.

…

Sarah POV

The Krogan lads sure were a serious bunch, if their angry looks were anything to go by. The soldiers under my command had taken defensive positions with guns raised, making sure the Xenos got the message; if ya make a move, you'll have a new breathing hole.

Crorloc and Ritarog walked out of the shuttle, Nurgle's blessings already showing on their Xenos bodies; making their flesh bulge from building corpse gas and small patches of rot was visible on their faces. Their brethren stumbled backwards, looks of disgust and fear slowly creeping up on their faces.

"What the hell happened to you two!"

The leader yelled, drawing his weapon at the two new converts. My soldiers raised their weapons right away, raising the already rising tension up a couple o notches.

"Baash, just listen to what the human has to say"

Ritarog said, his eyes shining with the joy that all followers of Nurgle share.

"He can save our race! We are free from the Genophage!"

Crorloc added, stepping towards his fellow Krogan.

By now, several more Xenos were arriving, all of them armed with shotguns and large blades. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw that a couple of my lads were setting up heavy weapons, like Autocannons or Lascannons. I could tell things were not going well, so I did the only thing I could; call Loimos. Pressing a button on the comm system, I looked up at the sky and waited for the show to start.

This is gonna be fun!

…

Loimos POV

The signal had been received, and the pod was being dropped. I had a squad of my battle brothers in a pod with me, and Halaphus in a pod of his own. As we hurtled towards the planet's surface, I gave the order for more shuttle to fly down, full of more troops, these Xenos need to see Nurgle's gifts firsthand. As soon as we hit the ground, we poured out with weapons drawn, ready to fight. Sarah smiled and waved once she saw me, and I laughed in return. The Krogan looked shocked at our arrival, hastily stepping back with their weapons being drawn as well. As more shuttles landed, and troops arriving, I decided to give the Krogan one last chance to see things our way before we had to get ugly.

"Hello! My name is Loimos RotGut and I have an offer for you all, if you'll listen of course."

I open, not wanting to appear hostile, despite my soldiers getting into position. The leader looked at me with anger plastered on his face.

"Talk quickly human."

He barked, practically spitting out his words.

"Well, I came here because your kin told me of the Genophage. My followers and I offered them and by extension, you a way to beat the Genophage. They are cured of that cowardly toxin; they are free from its embrace. You can be too if you just accept my gift."

The Krogan look at each other, than draw their weapons in response. Sighing, I send Halaphus the signal to drop, and draw my Eviscerator, ready to fight.

Shooting forwards, I slash at the Krogan, which he blocks with his own blade, causing sparks to fly. Halaphus smashes into the ground, startling the Krogan, buying the Dreadnaught a couple of seconds, which he uses to open fire. Bolterfire shot forth from his autocannon, shredding several Krogan. Sarah's troops open fire, heavy weapons giving us time to mount our offensive. I look over and see one of my battle brothers laying down covering fire with a Tox Spray; a terrifying weapon, it is a mockery of an Imperial Flamer. Instead of shooting out flames, it spews out radioactive waste and industrial chemicals, making it a horrifying weapon on the battlefield. The Krogan were no slouches however, and many of the faithful met their end by their bullets and blades. Soon, blood from both of our sides began to meet in the middle of the gory battlefield, as charred or bloated body parts began to pile up, making flies appear inside the flesh of the faithful.

A voice appears in my mind, making me jump slightly. The voice was old and aged; it was the voice of Akakios **.**

"My lord, enemy reinforcements coming from the south! Show these Xenos the might of the Plague Father!"

I whirled around, and there was an enemy force running to where we were. Suddenly, Autocannon fire began tearing into them. The Xenos reminded me of Orks in the way that they fight; they fought with a glee that only a Khornate could match. These Xenos fought like that, save one thing; they retreated. They had enough sense to run from a fight when the odds are beginning to change; as Tzeentch is a fickly lord, his whims changing like the wind. As the enemy began retreat, my forces had begun digging trenches and laying down traps for anything that tried to charge our position.

One of the good things about having former Imperial Guardsmen in your warband was their training; they knew how to entrench a force like no one else. As night fell upon the world, more enemy forces came barrelling into our position, roaring and firing. Over it all, I heard one of my battle brothers singing a song from Terra, a long time ago, I think that it was a fight or war song. But it roused us to greater heights of adrenaline and acts of violence against our foes. Soon, our soldiers began singing it as well, until I joined in as well. As we sang, Nurgle's strength flowed through our bloated forms, granting us power and determination to fend off our foes. At last, our foes broke, fleeing back to whatever holes they crawled out of. In celebration, we began to sing the song again, the song echoing across the bloody battlefield; Nurgle is with us, and all shall behold His gifts!

"Look at them now

What do they want?

And what do they do now?

Nothing at all!

What do they know?

What do they think?

And who do they tell?

Well, no one at all!

Lives are truly meaningless

And we are busy being blessed

With that we can take and pocket

No one needs to know

We're is the plug and they're the socket

Give us the juice and we'll go

Can't you hear the choir now?

Listen to the animals sing!

Can't you hear the slaughterhouse bells?

In the land of the pigs the butcher is king!

In the land of the pigs the butcher is king!

How do they sleep?

Their lives are so tart

Bring me the trash collectors

'Cause they're nothing but trash

What do you expect?

They've got no standards

So we lower the bar

'Cause they're waiting for us

We'll open up Pandora's Box

Pandora gave her keys and locks

They're the big dogs waiting for their mother

Come to the confessional

So I can tell you all to bugger off

There's no time like now!

Can't you hear the choir now?

Listen to the animals sing!

Can't you hear the slaughterhouse bells?

In the land of the pigs the butcher is king!

Can't you hear the choir now?

Listen to the market-place sing!

Can't you hear the slaughterhouse bells?

In the land of the pigs the butcher is king!

In the land of the pigs the butcher is king...

And we'll do it our way

It's our time to play

We know what to say

They stand in our way

Don't stand in our way

No time like today

Can't you hear the choir now?

Listen to the anthems we sing!

Can't you hear the slaughterhouse bells?

In the land of the pigs the butcher is king!

Can't you hear the choir now?

Listen to the animals sing!

Can't you hear the slaughterhouse bells?

In the land of the pigs the butcher is king!

Can't you hear the choir now?

Listen to the chosen ones sing!

Can't you hear the slaughterhouse bells?

In the land of the pigs the butcher is king!

In the land of the pigs the butcher is king!

In the land of the pigs the butcher is king!

In the land of the pigs the butcher is king!"

…

Sarah POV

"Those Krogan bastards were tough eh boss?"

I hear one of me lads ask, one of the newer guys we had picked up from a former Imperial world. I gaze at the alien landscape that surrounds us; it was a brutal looking world, but it was beautiful at the same time. The Daemons that had been summoned were beginning to bless the landscape, turning it to Nurgle's purpose.

"Halt!"

I hear one of the guardsmen shout, looking over I saw two forms approaching our entrenched position.

"Stand down!"

I bark, walking towards the figures in the dark. What I saw surprised me; it was two Krogan. They bore the symbol of the clan that attacked us from earlier, but one was a female.

"What do you want?"

I ask, wearily reaching behind me to grab my Powersword in case these Xenos tried anything.

"We wish to know if your offer is still open"

The female asked, stepping forwards so I could see her face; it was pale and clammy, the tell tale signs of sickness left untreated. Look into the pair's eyes; they were desperate; willing to do anything it took to save themselves, the perfect candidates.

"Follow me, you have to meet Lord Loimos, for 'tis he how shall you ye the way to salvation"

Without looking back, the two Krogan followed me into Loimos's tent; growing the army of faithful by two, with many more on the way.

…

3rd Person POV

Things had changed on Tuchanka ever since the Pilgrims arrived. They had quickly set up an entrenched and fortified base of operations out in the middle of nowhere, somehow surviving without going back for supplies. The story of their arrival and victory over more than one clan made them seem nigh invincible. But it wasn't the tales of their strength that drew many Krogan to seek them out; it was what they were saying. They promised freedom from the Genophage; a future for their children and their race. Many scoffed at them, calling them fools and lunatics. But there were some that went to them, usually in the dark of night as to avoid the mockery of their fellows. Few came back; those that did come back praised the outsiders for curing them of their plague. Their clans were disgusted by the changes in their kinsmen; as many now looked like bloated corpses, with rot showing on their flesh, and a strange symbol on their bodies. But the one thing that was the same on all of them was their smiles; they never faltered, never waved. Some called them mad or sick in the mind. That was until they appeared in great numbers with the outsiders; all were armed to the teeth quite literally in some cases.

Eventually, their filthy horde had enough members for multiple clans, spreading out with horrifying banners to herald their coming, and strange drums and bells could be heard from their camps with blazing fires and dancing figures could be seen circling said fires for hours nonstop, all laughing and signing. But the most disturbing thing about these outsiders was the beings that could be glimpsed with them. They were widely varied in size, some being the size of a small dog, others the size of several men. Some were jovial; others grim, all were rotted and bloated much like the outsiders. Wherever these malevolent beings went, rot and sickness came like a sickly storm, crippling many, causing them to go to the outsiders and beg for a release from their suffering, leading many to join the throngs out in the blasted wasteland.

Soon, many of the clans were getting worried, from what their warriors had seen on the battlefield; the Krogan who joined the outsiders, as well as the outsiders themselves felt no pain. Sure, they died, but that was after they had been physically disabled, one of the larger outsiders in a massive suit of armour took an unbelievable amount of bullet and grenades before he went down. This was after he lost an arm and a leg; he still hopped forwards and killed several more Krogan before finally dying. This left many clan leaders in an awkward position to be in; as they couldn't attack the massive army with what few warriors they had left, nor could they openly support the outsiders either, for fear of their neighbours ganging up on them and wiping them off the face of Tuchanka. This left one clan chief in particular anxious for the future; leaving him with an impossible decision to make. This is where we have a quick look into this Krogan's plight; for he shall be important later.

...

Urdnot Wrex had a problem. That is a complete and utter understatement; much like saying that being stuck in an elevator with a Khorne Berserker would be mildly terrifying is a huge understatement.

Things were getting tense, every single clan wanted more power, but thanks to the Citadel's blasted Genophage, the Krogan were effectively neutered, in all the senses of the word. He was in his hut looking over some maps and reports from some hunters; looking for a fresh spot for resources, but he knew all too well that had a very slim chance of success.

He was broken out of his thoughts by a dirty and bloodied messenger that ran into his tent, gasping and heaving.

"What the hell is it?"

Wrex grunted, pissed that someone had just ran into his tent without his permission.

"An old ally calls upon Clan Urdnot to fight against invaders from another world"

The messenger gasped out, his wounds taking his toll, making him nearly collapse from blood loss and fatigue. As the messenger was carried out to be fixed up, Wrex only had one thought going through his head.

" _Who the hell would be stupid enough to INVADE_ _Tuchanka?"_

...

Lilith POV

The assault of Omega was going well, quite well in fact. The guards here were probably used to fighting less experienced victims with worse weapons than them. I had a squad of Noise Marines as bodyguards, as well as Ophelia. The former Battle Sister was looking excited, probably the enchantment doing its work on her mind, as well as the Mark on her back. The Flamer in her hands was trembling slightly as she looked upon my forces slaughtering everyone that got in their way, pillaging and looting could be easily seen from our vantage point.

Several of my men had decided to have their way with several captives, or bleed them dry before pumping them full of drugs, laughing all the while as their victims twitched and frothed at the mouth as they died. I reach into my pack and pull out some Purple Sun, and begin to take a drag, letting the euphoria do its thing. I look over my shoulder and see Ophelia trudging off towards the backstreets, muttering something about killing some heretics.

"Send some troops after her. I don't want her running off by herself."

One of the Noise Marine salutes, his mouth covered by a mask that was currently pumping drugs into his body; with a shout, a couple of former Imperial Guardsmen went after her, dropping their victims mid act. With my group of bodyguards next to me, along with several Cultist squads behind us, we began our march to Afterlife, the leader of Omega's hideout.

As we marched down the winding streets and corridors, we were suddenly under fire from several gangs of mercenaries, each of them were heavily armed. We took cover, firing back at the group, chucking grenades and blindly firing, as our foes did the same. The standstill was broken by Svonux leading a charge with his battle brothers, all firing their Sonic weapons to buy the rest of us time to charge forwards, slaughtering the group, adding their heads to our collections. All died, save one; a human mercenary who had a gut wound, it was clear that he wasn't going to last much longer. Crouching down to him, I begin to rip the information out of his mind, killing him in the process. His screams ripped through the silence of post battle. When I was finished, I look down at what remained of my victim; his head had imploded upon itself as soon as I had let go of it, the rest of his body crumpling in on itself as well soon after. With gore on my hands, I light my Purple Sun blunt again, the blood giving it a harsher flavour. I knew where Afterlife was, thanks to the grunt's mind.

As we continued our march, I couldn't help but wonder what was taking my grunts so long to find Ophelia.

" _What the Hell is going on here?"_

…

3rd Person POV

Omega; the mercenary hub of the galaxy, the cesspool of disorder and crime; that's what usually comes to mind when someone utters the name of the dreaded space station. However, the Citadel has a presence there oddly enough; it was the deal they made with Aria T'Loak, the current ruler of Omega. They had only a few operatives in Omega, as to not raise the alarm of their being there.

One of said agents was in Omega when the Dancers invaded the space station, a Spectre to be precise. This particular Spectre had been tasked with finding Archangel, but the Invasion was more important. The Spectre was that one of the invaders; a beautiful woman wearing practically nothing wielding a flamethrower was chasing a couple of civilians into a ruined building.

He knew his duty, but decided to report it in, saying that he had hostiles engaging civvies, and that he was going to intercept. He just hoped that he wasn't too late.

…

Ophelia POV

I had chased the heretics and filthy Xenos into a ruined building; the cowards wouldn't face the Emperor's wrath, no matter; I had His fiery might in my hands. As I begin torching the building, I could hear the screams coming from the unbelievers and Xenos, their wails of agony were the sign of a job well done; their taint removed from the galaxy. Over the sounds of burning flesh and charred bones, I could hear something else; the sounds of someone crawling away. Whirling around I saw a figure desperately trying to crawl away from me. I walk up to him, and open fire on his legs to make sure he couldn't escape. He screamed in pure agony as his legs were melted off. I grab his shoulder, flipping him over so I could see him, and I gasp. It's a human, a child at that. He looked to be around nine or ten, his large blue eyes consumed with pain.

It was at this moment that something broke; looking back I don't know if it was the illusion that was forced on me or something like that, but I saw clearly for the first time. The sounds of immoral acts invaded my ears, the stench of burnt flesh defiles my nose, and I can finally see what is going on. Regardless of this, I can't stop my fingers pulling the trigger of the Flamer, setting the boy alight, his screams cut off by the fire.

" _What have I done?"_

I scream internally, horror filling my mind. My stupor was broken by hearing footsteps behind me. Through the dust and the tears in my eyes, I see a figure in full body armour walk up to me, with a strange looking blade drawn. His face was covered by a blank helm, but a voice came out; muffled by the helm.

"Murderer"

That was all he said, his voice was cold and full of rage; the voice of a man seeking vengeance.

He practically flew towards me, moving more like one of the Eldar than a human. Drawing my Chainsword, our blades clashed in flurry of sparks and the sound of grinding metal. Kicking him backwards, I start slashing at his head, which leaves him ducking and weaving as he tried to not have his head cleaved from his shoulders. Headbutting him in the helm, he staggers backwards, stunned for a split second. That's all I need, shooting forwards, I shatter his right knee cap with my fist.

As the man screamed, I saw a woman being chased by two Cultists; all had sick grins on their faces and bloody knives in their hands. Grabbing my Chainsword, I hurl myself at the first twisted bastards, feeling the blade meet slight resistance from meeting mere flesh and bone, but passing through almost instantly. His howls of agony were silenced forever as his blood came pouring out of his throat, causing him to choke on his own blood before his painful death. The other cultist stabbed me in the rib, and seeing as I had no armour there anymore, blood came pouring out. I saw only red as I grabbed the man's head and started smashing it into the ground, hearing crunches and cracks until his head caved in on itself like a rotting melon, spilling gore and brain everywhere.

I look down at my grisly deeds, before feeling exhaustion sweep over me, causing me to collapse to the ground; my last thought was one of worry.

" _What next?"_

...

3rd Person POV

The Spectre looked at the gory scene in front of him, feeling bile at the back of his throat. He had seen a lot of bloodshed in his time at Omega, but the sheer brutality he had just witnessed had turned his stomach a bit queasy. The rest of his squad started to appear from various parts of the corridor, each having blood on their armour; their travel here was not without interruptions.

"What should we do with her boss?"

One of the squad members asked with a nervous tone to his voice.

"Take her with us; I have a feeling that she'll be an interesting person to get to know."

...

And this chapter is done!

As I said before, I won't be active for two weeks, so if you PM me, and I don't get back to ya, you'll know why. It's not me being a jerk.

As always, anything feedback at all, PM me, that way I can get back to you personally.

And as always; stay classy, stay awesome and have a lovely day.


	4. Alpha and Omega

Hello again (Marlon Webb Voice)

It's me Doomeater as always with another chapter of Dancers and Pilgrims, due to a very helpful review, I shall now be adding in warnings for any Slaanesh or (in later chapters) Nurgle bits that I feel are quite intense, so I will let you readers choose to read them or not.

The symbol will be as follows.

 **...**

And I will have a brief warning before the scene, and the same line you see above will be the indication that such a scene has ended. I hope that this has been helpful and I hope you enjoy.

I will not be posting the lyrics to songs anymore, merely having the song and band name in brackets in the sections where I would normally put it so you have a choice to listen to it.

Sources:

A Black Matilda By American Murder Song

Ophelia's dream was a slightly tweaked version from a passage from the legendary H.P. Lovecraft, the Horror at Red Hook to be precise.

I own nothing and all rights go to their respective owners

…

Alpha and Omega

Lilith POV

"WHAT!?"

I roar, causing most to shrink back in fear. One of my underlings had returned after being sent to find Ophelia, and report had caused him to be castrated before being eviscerated in front of his squad.

"Find her! She is mine and mine alone! If any of you return without her, consider yourself the crews entertainment tonight!"

The rest of his squad bolt away, each looking for my property. Growling, I led the troops towards the massive nightclub known to me as Afterlife. It was a place that would make Slaanesh proud; even from here I could hear the sounds of revelry, from drunken laughter to the sounds of blaring music; yes, it would make a lovely palace. Outside the nightclub/fortress there was enough guards to be called an army. Looking around, it was clear that we didn't have enough troops to tackle this, not yet anyways; perhaps we could ask She Who Thirsts for her favour.

"Everyone, we're going to need some help of the Daemonic variety. So, get on your knees and pray; anyone have any sacrifices that could be used hand them over."

Svonux grunted an affirmative, marching into the mob of cultists and taking some of the prizes they had brought along for the ride; some protested about having their loot being taken, but a glare from the Noise Marine shut them up quick. The line of defeated grunts and civilians had been brought before me, some were struggling against their bonds, but some didn't have any bonds, they simply stared blankly before them; their minds shattered. Grinning, I leaned towards them with a large knife in hand, I grabbed the first captive by the face; he was a Xeno, this one looked like a cross between a bird and human, with a shell of some kind instead of skin. He struggled, spitting and hissing at me, it made no difference as I stuck in the knife into his forehead and began carving the Mark of Slaanesh into his skin. He began howling as his mind itself was becoming polluted by the decadent powers of She Who Thirsts. His howling was cut short when I slashed his throat open, sending his Xeno blood splashing onto my arms and chest. Grinning, I felt the Warp slightly shift to our area as the sacrifices were being forced to kneel onto the ground and several cultists has their knifes at the ready and carving Slaaensh's symbol into them while others were on their knees; muttering praise to Slaanesh under their breath.

"Alright meat bags today you're going to do something actually important with your pathetic lives; as of right now, you are about to be sacrificed to She Who Thirsts. I'd say prepare yourselves for the other side, but there is nothing I can say that would prepare you; all I can do is show you"

With a nod, the cultists sacrificed the crowd of captives, cutting off their screams and turning into gurgles of blood. Within moments, a small warp portal appeared, and a couple of Daemonettes appeared; giggling and chortling all the while. Grinning evilly, Svonux roared a Warp Scream at the sky, jolting the rest of the cultists to their feet, weapons at the ready, each eager to kill the enemy.

With a roar, we rushed towards the armed group, and almost instantly, bullets began flying through the air; sending some of my troops to their deaths, their blood pooling on the ground. I look over and see my troops engage the enemy in close quarters combat; to my right I saw Svonux holding a human in one hand while crushing one the blue Xenos to death with the other; her head popping like an overripe fruit. Looking over to my left I saw several cultists ganging up on a hulking armoured Xeno who already had several dead cultists at his feet; and he laughed like a Khornate Berserker and an Ork cross. As I walked towards the door, a human mercenary and a blue Xeno charged me, guns blazing. With a chuckle, I take some Purple Sun before lunging forwards, my Powersword in my hand, whirling around, I sever the humans left arm from his body before spinning around to gut the blue Xeno who collapses onto my back, blood soaking through my clothes and wetting the skin beneath.

" _In a way, I can see why people follow Khorne, seeing blood fly and feeling it up close in personal gives me a buzz that almost nothing can match"_

I muse to myself. Hearing a mixture of swearing and grunting I look over and see the human merc whose arm I had carved off was still alive, but he was losing blood quickly. I grab his face and look into his eyes; he was young, no older then twenty-five.

"Will you serve?" I ask, and his eyes widened

"Will I live?" He asks simply, gesturing to his bleeding stump of a left arm.

"Submit your soul to me and you shall survive" The young man nods quickly; not knowing what I said was quite literal. Pulling him towards me, I brand his arm with the Mark, adding a bit of magic to it to seal the wound as well as defile his soul. He shuddered for a while before saluting me and marching to meet his new comrades, who greeted him with gusto.

" _One more soul answers the call"_

I mentally mutter to myself before walking back outside and seeing the carnage that was left in the wake of the two groups. Several of my cultists lay dead, but the damage had been done to the defenders of Afterlife; the massive armoured Xeno was still alive, if only to be a Daemonette's toy as looking over I could see him having the Mark carved into him, right before a giggling Daemonette dragged him into the shadows, at which point I turned to see Svonux forcing several captives to their knees before slitting their throats.

"All right, you've had your fun, now we go for their boss, a Xeno named Aria T'Loak. Word is she is a very power Biotic, from what I've heard, it's something similar to a Pysker. Let's show her what it takes to rule a place like this! For She Who Thirsts! For Slaanesh!"

"FOR SLAANESH!"

Their war cry echoed through the streets and into the club itself.

" _Here we go"_ I think to myself, ready to take this place and begin Slaanesh's work in this galaxy.

…

3rd Person POV

Afterlife; the seat of Omega's power; and it was under siege. Aria T'Loak sat in private lounge trying to figure out what to do; suddenly, a massive explosion rocks the nightclub, and a bloodied guard rushes in

"Boss, they've broken in! What are we gonna-

Midsentence, the overlord of Afterlife caved his skull in with her biotics, sending eyeballs flying and bits of brain sailing through the air.

"Don't tell me what I already know" She growled, walking out of the room, ignoring the scrambling mercenaries and exotic dancers; her only goal was the invaders that would dare to attack her place of power. The doors caved in, and several cultists poured into the nightclub, laughing in joy as they saw the exotic dancers and smelled the booze and drugs that hung in the air; and many charged straight for the bar while others jumped upon the dancers, but most dealt with the guards that were shooting at them. Bullets were peppering cultist and mercenary alike; sending a bloody symphony of death and blood into the air, pleasing She Who Thirsts greatly as Her servants did Her work. The mercenaries fought with a fervor that betrayed the fact that they were more scared of the people behind them over the voracious heretics in front of them. As the cultists moved forwards, the Daemonettes charged forwards, cutting a bloody swath through the mercenary lines allowing Svonux to lead some of his battle brothers to the front lines, unleashing Warp Screams and sonic weapons alike, liquefying organs and bone into a grisly sludge.

Throughout this haze of vile acts and death, two figures marched towards each other, cutting down any fools stupid enough to attack them; one a leader of cultists and a black souled follower of Slaanesh; the other a brutal overlord of mercenaries and pirates. Neither would back down from this, one would forfeit everything, and one would gain everything.

…

Lilith POV

As my troops cut down several of the pirates that still held on to what cover remained, I saw a path being made for one individual, she had a feeling of power to her, it was similar to a Psyker but on a whole different scale. She was one of those female Xenos, but her eyes were hard and cold, her skin was purple; her whole being radiated a feeling of power and I knew instantly that she was Aria T'Loak, the being in charge; if I take her out or bend her to my service, the rest here will surrender.

"Clear a path, she's mine!" I yell at the cultists who were aiming weapons at her, in fact, the battlefield seemed to pause as both sides were waiting to see which one of us was going to end up on top; and I had no intention of losing. As I got close, I could see that this being, Aria T'Loak was extremely powerful, but oddly she didn't wear much in the way of armour, merely a simple coat of black and white. Finally, we met each other in the massive crowd of our respective underlings that formed a crude ring around us; with a cold glance at me, Aria spoke first, her voice just as cold as her gaze.

"So, you're the one shooting up my domain, I must admit that I'm impressed, you're the first people to get this far, but I'm afraid that you die here and now"

She sneered at me, her eyes glowing with power.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you my dear, but I have no intention of bending my knee to you or anyone for that matter. I'll give you a chance to grovel at my feet for your life and I may decide to be merciful and spare you." I purr, causing many of Aria's mercs to look at each other in confusion, before Aria turned their heads to paste, cowing the others into submission.

"Enough talk, let's get this over with!" The Xeno snapped, and just like that, our fight began.

Taking a puff of Purple Sun, I draw my Powersword before twirling forwards, slashing upwards in an attempt to put my foe off balance, but she blasted me back with a shot of her power. Rolling to the side, I pulled out a simple pistol and began firing at my foe, distracting her for only moment; that was all I needed as I whacked her in the face with the handle of my Powersword, causing her to stagger backwards before firing bolts of whatever power she had at her disposal, causing me to duck and weave my way through each attack. Out of nowhere, I felt a burning in my leg, looking down I saw that she had gotten a hit in; it felt like plasma had splashed onto my leg, but thanks to Slaanesh's gifts instead of pain, pleasure came rushing into my brain, causing me to shake slightly.

Aria walked towards me, grabbing my head and was about to finish me off when I lunched forwards, grappling with her and sending her to the ground. Leering at her, I grabbed her shoulder and dislocated it, the crack resounding in the tense silence. Pushing me off, she kicked me in the head, sending me careening off to the left. Aria pushed herself to her feet, her right arm now useless; she glared at me before launching another barrage of energy bolts at me, her aim now off thanks to the pain and anger. I closed the distance and slashed upwards again with my blade, but this time at her left arm. With a scream and a splash of blood, her left arm fell to the ground with a wet flop. Aria screamed in agony, giving me the time to cleave her useless right arm off at the elbow, causing her screams to reach another octave, much to my delight. Aria had fallen to her knees, her arms bleeding profusely, but despite this fatal injury, she still glared at me. Watching Aria on the ground I laughed to myself slightly. Such a fine, loving body but such a disappointing attitude. Just like little Ophelia before I truly began with her. I grinned. _"This is getting to a point where it could be considered a kink, Lilith."_ The one tiny sane shred of my mind said dryly.

Good. One more to add to the pile. The rest of my mind slid back with a manic grin.

"Get it over with" Aria spat out, "kill me!" Aria spat out, the floor now slightly slippery due to the massive amount of blood that was covering the dark floor.

Grabbing her by the face I lean forwards and grin. "What's so funny?" Aria sneered at me, although her eyes had a slight look of fear in them now.

"But why should I do that?" I lowered myself before her with a smile, "why waste someone of such beauty, with a damn terrible attitude, but a beauty of such intimate design?" I ran my hand across her resisting face, enjoying how she tried to not show the small hints of pleasure I sparked into her body. "I could give you what you desire?" I said sliding my hand back to her chin holding it so we were eye-eye. She looked upon me as if I was a psychopath. I was.

With my other hand I traced down her shoulder and arm, all the way down to her stump. She looked at me with confusion and fear. My hand sparked with violet fire.

The alien screamed. Oh how she screamed. But my work was quickly finishing. The blood that poured from her wounds was quickly stopping the dozen threads of damaged bone; tenements and flesh were quickly congealing. I flipped my hands. After about another minute, my work was complete and the aliens sat shocked and pale.

"Just enough time." I mutter to myself.

Grabbing Aria by the head, I forced my lips into hers, and I felt the alien's mind bend, then crack, then shatter utterly under the barrage of images, before reforming itself along more…agreeable lines. She'd still be a raging bitch, but now she was MY raging bitch, to sick on whomever I needed.

I pulled back from the kiss, leaving the alien gasping and faintly whining as I moved away. I tilted her head back.

"Who do you serve?" I whispered huskily.

"I serve Slaanesh." She replied breathily.

"And who are you?" I said again, moving my right hand to grab the side of her head as I drew a short blade from my waist.

"I am yours, my Mistress." She whined as my grip tightened, her breathing growing labored.

I grinned. "Yes, you are."

Standing in front of my brothers and sisters who had followed me I raised my hands to cheers and whoops. It settled down as the cultists gotten a hold of themselves. Looking at the gathered hedonists, I grinned, and began to talk.

"My brothers and sisters, I have shared many, many intimate times with you..." more cheers and calls came from the lesser cultists, grinning stupidly at the fond memories "but today. This one is private."

Some boo's and aww's came from the audience, the few Astartes just stared at me, small frowns on their faces. Looking down at my captive, I grin, ready to begin the final touches.

(Warning: Slaaneshing)

 **…...**

And with that, I got to work changing the former crime-lord into a proper member of my court. Kneeling back down in front of my new friend I slowly trailed my fingers along her cold white pale face. I playfully frowned "We can't have you like this. No fun will come from this experience," I said ending my trail on her chin and slightly opening her mouth, the alien did not resist, "let me give you some colour back."

Smiling once again I slowly closed my mouth to hers and let my tongue do its work. Overpowering her defenceless tongue, I began to take thrill in all the new tastes and experiences of this foreign mouth. If this is what aliens taste like, good riddance to the Imperiums interspecies laws.

With my tongue completely in bliss and dominance, I slowly began to bring life back to my partner. Her skin began to take back its purple shade, her body began to react

My eyes blazed with deep purple light, tendrils of warp-energy lashing the air around my head as I poured warp-energy into her while I worked, the flesh of her arms bubbling as the mutagenic energy of the warp twisted her form, causing the bleeding to sputter and then stop, preventing my new prize from bleeding out.

That was not all that Slaanesh saw fit to grant my new servant, as her skin shifted in tone to a lighter purple color, and the flesh on her back around her shoulder blades writhed and split, allowing four long tendrils with flat, clawed ends to burst forth in all their glory, shredding the back of her clothes. I felt her mind bend, then shatter under the influence of Slaanesh, and I began rebuilding it as something under far more…agreeable lines, she'd still be a raging bitch, but she's MY raging bitch, one to use as I saw fit.

"Do you think we should remove the rest of your clothes?" I asked, breaking our lips for just a second. She nodded, and I took advantage of her damaged clothing to rip the rest of her clothes off completely, revealing her generous breasts and her other parts to the audience. Before me knelt another exotic masterpiece, a pair of beautiful oval breasts with dark rock nipples, a slick glass body, a pair of round curvy cheeks and a pair of smooth thin arms and legs. And all with the dark purple hue of our master.

I ignored the jeers and hoots of my men at this, and admired the lovely globes of flesh before me, grinning as an idea struck me. I slowly licked at her left breast, starting just below the nipple and running my tongue all the way to her collarbone. I repeated the action with the other breast, drawing a deep moan from the alien with both actions, who was still trying to recover from the pain and pleasure of her initial transformations

Tracing her curves and body I continued our kiss, drawing my hands down her full length until they crossed to my leg. Reaching my boot I slid the thin switchblade from it and brought it to her back. With a flick, I slowly carved it across her skin, begging it from in between the crack of her round and exposed checks to the back of her neck.

Then, I started to cut, slipping the tip of my knife in a wide circle around her bluish nipple, a few slower cuts finishing the mark of Slaanesh on her right breast I quickly began with the left, running my tongue across the gentle flesh I could hear my partners moans. I tickled her nipple with my tongue and nipping ever so softly at its end. "Yes" the former queen of Omega whimpered. Letting go of my advance on the right quickly slid my tongue to the left and continued the same routine leaving my left hand to fiddled with the other breast for something to do.

It seemed to surprise her that a creature with such a loud voice and such a bitchy attitude was as tame and whimpering as a scared little girl in her squeaks and moans.

After finishing with the breasts, I thought that, for my servant, she was distinctly lacking in any marker of my ownership. That had to be fixed, and it swiftly was, as I carved my house crest into her bare stomach and then her cheek, pleasured whimpers and moans accompanying my work, her new tentacles quivering and twitching as she tried to cope with the pleasure coursing through her.

 **…...**

(Intense Slaaneshing over)

The air was thick with the smell of blood and full of cracking bones as Aria finished her transformation into a form more pleasing to Slaanesh. I stood, licking some of her blood from my lips, and looked at the shocked mass of warriors of the former Lady of Omega.

The Pirates look at each other in confusion and horror, not sure what to do; some had their weapons out, but they were shaking. Others were trying to hide from the scene in front of them, while others were simply on their knees, completely surrendered to their fate.

I grin down at the shuddering and jittering Xeno before me, her mouth moving but with no words coming out, her brain still trying to comprehend what had just happened.

Her eyes which had been clouded over during the process of Binding her soul to my own, and to the price, began to clear.

As she spasmed on the ground, the pirates looked at each other, several falling to their knees or dropping their guns.

Soon, only a dozen or so had refused to surrender, for which the solution was to slit their throats and throw them off the roof of the club.

While this was happening, Aria had started to recover from her ordeal, staying glued to my side, her new arms wrapped around my leg and her cuts still dripping blood on the floor, breasts still bared to all who cared to look.

My troops had started raiding the massive bar of the night club, drinking themselves stupid, and soon drunken signing and brawling was everywhere in and out of the nightclub, both from my new converts and the cultists. The young man who had his arm cut off had it replaced with a cybernetic limb, and he was currently challenging Svonux to a drinking contest, much to everyone's amusement.

Aria looked over the revelry with something like awe, as my men and women started really getting into the swing of things. "So, what now?" She asked.

"Now," I said, grinning hungrily as I gently pushed my knife against her chin, using the blade to force my newest tool up the stairs to her former perch, almost feeling the pair of Daemonettes that emerged from the shadows to follow us up. "I'm going to give you a proper Slaaneshi breaking in."

…

Loimos POV

Tuchanka

I was in my tent looking at a map of the terrain when one of soldiers enters looking wounded.

"What is it?" I ask, slightly startled by the intrusion.

"Sir, we have incoming hostiles; enough for an army." The man said, his wounds bleeding profusely. Despite this, the messenger stood tall; for which I was proud. Slapping the young man on the back, he went off to get his wounds bound so he wouldn't bleed out. Rising from my seat I marched out to the barracks, rousing the men from their sleep; Sarah was on guard duty, and roused the rest of the camp with the constant beating of war drums and bells.

"Wake up ya gits! We've got us a wee bit o fighting ta do!" She yelled, jump starting the camp into action, weapons being readied and armour put on. Within minutes, the entirety of our guardsmen and cultists had been roused from the barracks, while my Battle Brothers and the Krogan converts shambled into a rough rank and file. The Plague Marines were muttering a hymn to Nurgle, their voices slow and methodical, while the Krogan were excited, hefting their weapons over their shoulders and raising their guns into the air. With a bellow, Sarah jolted the guardsmen into a solid march, "Forward, you dogs, to victory!" She yells, her usual smile gone, replaced by a cold look on her face, having her weapons at the ready, eager to spill some blood.

Halaphus lumbered behind the guardsmen, Nurglings bursting out of his corroded chassis and following the ancient Dreadnaught in carefree jubilee. We set fire to the simple encampment, making sure that our foes couldn't use it for their own means, even if they could survive the plagues that resided there. Our march lasted through the day, and most of the evening as many of didn't need to sleep. But, finally we stopped to make camp, as even my Battle Brothers were feeling a bit weary. Many of the men pulled out instruments and started to play, the harsh landscape being brightened a little by the small efforts of the troops, banjos twanged, flutes whistled, feet stomped and drums boomed through the empty night. Krogan joined in as well, making it a strange sight; more than a few of the guardsmen were wary to be near Xenos, but they put their unease aside and stomped their feet as a song was belted out deep into the night. The song was a sad one, speaking of the unborn and death; perfect for a Nurgle army.

(A Black Matilda by American Murder Song)

The next morning Sarah woke the men with a shot in the air, her smile gone as battle neared; and many of the men were slightly scared by her change of behavior, as many of the new recruits only saw her as someone who laughed and cheered; but I knew better. She always turns grim and harsh, much like the Commissar she used to be so long ago.

"From here on, we march!" She yelled, rousing the men to action. As the column of troops marched on, one of the men started to sing out a hymn to Nurgle, causing their Marks to weep puss and plagues anew, adding more blessings to be bestowed upon the troops, strengthening them and raising morale. We marched for hours, across barren wastes, crumbling ruins, and abandoned camps until finally we saw them; a massive horde of Krogan, all armed to the teeth. There were several groups from different clans and tribes, usually this would be met with infighting and bickering; but I guess they hated us more than themselves. The army was camped near the outside of a canyon, so we decided to set ourselves up in the canyon itself, to give us the higher ground, making them come to us. We set up a small command post, complete with Vox so we can get reinforcements from our ship, I didn't bring all of our troops down here, and some are still in reserve.

"Orders boss?" I hear Sarah ask me, her troops setting up heavy weapons on the sides of the canyon.

"Send scouts on the other sides of the canyon to do recon on the enemy forces, and send two companies of Cultists as our first line; keep our heavy weapons spread out throughout our forces and Lascannons on the edges of the canyon. Mortars shall be kept at the back of our lines to stagger the enemy lines. Tell each of the scouts to be armed a missile launcher and some Frag Grenades as well as their usual weapons." I order, to which Sarah nods and barks the orders at the cultists and converts alike.

Calling for the Comms officer, I order for two Leman Russ Vanquishers to be deployed to support the second line; two companies of Guardsmen and our Krogan converts. Our remaining six tanks and remaining companies will remain in reserve in case things went wrong. The Scouts had gone out to do their work, scouting the enemy forces, and had returned with their report. While the enemy did not have numbers on their side, they had a reckless abandon and fury to make up for it, their armoured hides would most likely stop bullets. I gave the order; draw out these Xenos who still refuse the generous gifts of the Plague Lord, if they are so stubborn as to keep denying this gift that has been offered, we shall give them one more gift, one I am all too familiar with; the gift of death.

The mob stirred, their weapons were ready for war; their rotted hearts pumped fetid blood into corroded veins, festering muscles moaned and crumbling bones launched their decaying carcasses towards our foes; we were not the mindless killers of Khorne, the fickle minions of Tzeentch, or the perverse thralls of Slaanesh. We are the Undying Legion, the Deathless Host, we are the Children of Nurgle, and we shall not be stopped!

…

Wrex POV

I was in my tent when I heard it; the screech of artillery fire and explosions. Running out of my tent with a blade and my shotgun in hands, I see an almost fluid stream of mortar shells and missiles being launched towards our war camp, blasting many Krogan to pieces, but still several charged towards the canyon, weapons at the ready, charging forwards the enemy despite the losses they were taking. As I made my way towards the canyon, could see a small horde of the outsiders and the traitor Krogan.

"Kill the traitors! Leave none alive!" I bellow, to which my underlings cheered at, eager to kill something. We charged towards the canyon and were met with a fucking tank being seen with the usual forces, all were charging towards us, save the armoured bastards that are usually leading the charge. I put those thoughts aside as the lightly armored maniacs flung themselves at us, clubs, blades and simple guns being used against us; by themselves, they didn't do much, but with sheer numbers, their weapons took down some of the warriors. That was when the rank and file troops marched towards us, their weapons firing in crisp order, their bullets and energy weapons firing nonstop, as the thundering boom of the tank and their artillery continued to pound our forces behind us. Several of the lightly armoured invaders were chucking grenades and missiles into the bulk of our forces from the sides. And that's what I saw him, a huge being in corroded armour walking steadily towards me, cutting down anyone who got close to him. He stood in front of me, his troops stopping their assault, and the bombardment paused, much to everyone's surprise. I look at the bastard in front me, his armour and weapons were unlike anything I had seen before, in fact all of the humans had strange weapons and armour. I was broken out of my analysis by the leader chuckling, his voice cracked and deep.

"So, you are the leader of this rabble I take it?" He said, his voice having an odd happy tone to it, it was the voice of a madman.

"I am, why don't you crawl out of that suit human and fight me yourself? You smell like a dead man" I spit back, waiting to get a reaction from the behemoth, but laughter was my only answer.

"Oh you poor ignorant Xeno; you really know nothing about us do you? Well, I'll just have to educate you on these matters, like one does with a child, for that is all you are, a petulant child. I have fought for over ten thousand years, you are nothing more than a boy playing soldier."

I felt anger crash into my system, raising my blade and shotgun, I aimed them at the leader. "I'm going to spill your guts all over the ground" I growl, and the leader merely chuckles, drawing his massive blade, and walking towards me, and I had a feeling this was going to be a tough fight; it's about damn time someone challenged me!

…

Loimos POV

The Xeno had the look of a hardened warrior to him, someone who wouldn't go down easily, someone who had seen countless battles and had come out of them alive, usually with multiple bodies piled up behind him, good, someone who might pose a threat to me. He had a large blade and shotgun aimed at me, while I had my Eviscerator in my hands.

The Xeno rushed forwards, roaring at the top of his lungs. I raised my weapon to meet him in the middle of the space between us. Metal screamed and sparks flew before I pushed him back, which he followed up by firing a shot into my shoulder; it merely bounced off my armour, but it gave the Xeno time to press his attack against me, swinging his blade in a way that had controlled rage behind it, unlike the majority of his forces who simply waded into the thick of things and swung their weapons around until they dropped. This Xeno led because he had the brains to back up his brute force, he was dangerous. I shifted my weight to my left but shot to the right, kicking him in the stomach; causing the Xeno to stumbled back a pace or two. Rushing forwards, I smashed the hilt of the Eviscerator into the Xeno's face, making a crunch be heard and a small stream of blood was seen flying out of his maw.

He growled at me, rushing forwards with his shotgun blasting away at me, peppering my armour with slugs. I ignored them, rushing to meet him again, but as our blades clashed I saw the Xeno smirk before firing his shotgun into my throat before reloading and blasting my mask apart.

I spat, my fetid blood dripping out of the torn windpipe before my body quickly healed the wound, although my voice wouldn't be the same. I felt air touch my face for the first time in thousands of years, and I hear the Xeno swear before backing up with disgust written on his ugly face. The screaming of the Krogan certainly sent the message. I wondered what they were screaming about until I saw what remained of my face reflecting in his armour, that's when the pieces came together.

Oh, well that's new.

…

3rd Person POV

Loimos stood before the terrified Krogan, his face bared for all to see. Over the centuries of war and battle, the once ruggedly handsome features of the Plague Marine had rotted and eroded into a grisly mess of bone and half liquefied flesh. One of his eyes had maggots crawling around the socket, eating a blackened and rotted orb that had once been an eye. The other eye was bloodshot and weeping a black fluid that could only be blood pumped from a poisoned heart, and his skull was pushing through the moldy green skin that remained attached to his skull. But the thing made disturbed many of the Krogan was his smile; it was plastered on his face, the smile of a dying man who no longer feared death, in fact he revelled in the knowledge of his demise. In front of the crowd, Loimos spat out some blood before laughing at Wrex Urdnot and all who had gathered. The tone and voice itself was different, still jolly but it was now guttural and deep, inhumanly so.

"To think… that I have…finally found a worthy foe…in this place…it is a good day!" His voice gurgled and rumbled out. It sent a feeling of doom into the minds of the Krogan, only the fear of being shot kept them from running from the ancient Traitor Marine.

"So…shall we continue?" Loimos rumbled out, his voice popping and crackling as cartilage stretched apart. Wrex growled, raising his weapons and continuing the fight against the ancient Marine, who chuckled and laughed at the continued fighting.

"Nice skill, good form lad!" He laughed; kicking the Krogan Warlord back a few steps before Loimos grabbed his head and smashed it into his knee, causing Wrex to collapse on the ground.

"You are a good foe...but not good enough" Loimos rasped out, before hoisting the Krogan warlord to his feet. The Traitor Marine cackled as he opened his mouth and spewed bile and sludge onto his defeated foe; it did not seem to do any damage to the Krogan, merely disgusting him.

Loimos smashed his knee into Wrex's gut before cracking his fist across his face; when the Krogan was on the ground, Loimos started to kick him hard in the sides and chest before stopping.

"Run…all of you…flee and tell all… what happened here" The ancient Marine spoke, his voice echoing all around him. The Krogan began to run as the forces of the Plague God began shooting at them, bullets and grenades were fired and tossed respectively to urge them on as they fled. Two Krogan grabbed Wrex and carried him away, blood dripping down his body; and as the Krogan warlord fled the battlefield, wounded and bloodied, the laughter of a thousand rotted throats echoed throughout the canyon and into the air. The forces of Nurgle began marching towards the abandoned war camp, torching and taking what they wanted before raising a altar to Nurgle in the middle of the camp, defiling it to all but the Plagued Pilgrims; and as the taint of Nurgle began to spread into the air, a loud booming laugh could be heard throughout the wasteland, for the Plagued Pilgrims had begun their conquest of this world, and once this world has been conquered, the glory of Nurgle shall be spread to the rest of the galaxy, for none can stop the wave of decay that has began its march towards all that breathes or has flesh to rot, for Nurgle's chosen have begun their war against this new universe, and all shall tremble, for the end is indeed near, and it bears a grin.

...

...

Ophelia POV

The first thing I saw was a bright light, blinding me for a moment before I could look around and see that I was in a medical bay, with primitive looking machines beeping and humming as they tracked my vitals. My thoughts were interrupted by movement and my mind stopped as a Xeno walked into my room. She was one of those blue harlots that tried to rape me when the Heretics held me prisoner. I felt rage spill into me, the righteous fury of the Emperor's servant. I shot out of my bed, ignoring the pain shooting through my body, and tackled the foul Xeno to the ground as she shouted in fear, she should be afraid, for the Emperor's servant has come for her!

I smash her across the face, and some of her blue blood flies out of her mouth and spills onto the white floor. I heard shouts coming from the hallway and rough hands threw me off the foul Xeno, as I stood up I saw humans in armour aiming weapons at me.

"Why do you defend this foul Xeno? Let me rid the galaxy of her taint!" I yell at the men in front of me, but before I could say more I felt a needle stab me in the back, I tried to charge again, but my limbs wouldn't obey my commands, and I collapsed to the ground, feeling cold as darkness creeped into my vision, and I looked up and the last thing I saw was _her_ the vile bitch that tormented me, that commanded the Daemons to Mark me. The world changed around me, becoming twisted and foul, and the last thing I remembered was seeing Lilith's hand reaching for me, then blackness and memory failed me, sending me falling into a pit of misery and damnation.

...

...

3rd Person

Of course it was a dream. All the specialists have told her so, and she has nothing to prove the contrary. Indeed, she would rather have it thus; for then the sight of old brick slums and dark foreign faces would not eat so deeply into her soul. But at the time it was all horribly real, and nothing can ever efface the memory of those nighted crypts, those titan arcades, and those half-formed shapes of hell that strode gigantically in silence holding half-eaten things whose still surviving portions screamed for mercy or laughed with madness. Odours of incense and corruption joined in sickening concert, and the black air was alive with the cloudy, semi-visible bulk of shapeless elemental things with eyes. Somewhere dark sticky water was lapping at onyx piers, and once the shivery tinkle of raucous little bells pealed out to greet the insane titter of a naked phosphorescent thing which swam into sight, scrambled ashore, and climbed up to squat leeringly on a carved golden pedestal in the background.  
Avenues of limitless night seemed to radiate in every direction, till one might fancy that here lay the root of a contagion destined to sicken and swallow cities, and engulf nations in the foetor of hybrid pestilence. Here cosmic sin had entered, and festered by unhallowed rites had commenced the grinning march of death that was to rot us all to fungous abnormalities too hideous for the grave's holding. Satan here held his Babylonish court, and in the blood of stainless childhood the leprous limbs of phosphorescent Lilith were laved. Incubi and succubae howled praise to Hecate, and headless moon-calves bleated to the Magna Mater. Goats leaped to the sound of thin accursed flutes, and aegipans chased endlessly after misshapen fauns over rocks twisted like swollen toads. Moloch and Ashtaroth were not absent; for in this quintessence of all damnation the bounds of consciousness were let down, and man's fancy lay open to vistas of every realm of horror and every forbidden dimension that evil had power to mould. The world and Nature were helpless against such assaults from unsealed wells of night, nor could any sign or prayer check the Walpurgis-riot of horror which had come when a sage with the hateful key had stumbled on a horde with the locked and brimming coffer of transmitted daemon-lore.  
Suddenly a ray of physical light shot through these phantasms, and Opheila heard the sound of oars amidst the blasphemies of things that should be dead. A boat with a lantern in its prow darted into sight, made fast to an iron ring in the slimy stone pier, and vomited forth several dark men bearing a long burden swathed in bedding. They took it to the naked phosphorescent thing on the carved golden pedestal, and the thing tittered and pawed at the bedding. Then they unswathed it, and propped upright before the pedestal the gangrenous corpse of a beautiful but scarred face of a young woman. The phosphorescent thing tittered again, and the men produced bottles from their pockets and anointed its feet with red, whilst they afterward gave the bottles to the thing to drink from.  
All at once, from an arcaded avenue leading endlessly away, there came the daemoniac rattle and wheeze of a blasphemous organ, choking and rumbling out the mockeries of hell in a cracked, sardonic bass. In an instant every moving entity was electrified; and forming at once into a ceremonial procession, the nightmare horde slithered away in quest of the sound—goat, satyr, and aegipan, incubus, succuba, and lemur, twisted toad and shapeless elemental, dog-faced howler and silent strutter in darkness—all led by the abominable naked phosphorescent thing that had squatted on the carved golden throne, and that now strode insolently bearing in its arms the glassy-eyed corpse of a shockingly familiar face. With a gasp, Ophelia realised to whom this face belonged to; for it was hers! Before she could think about this revelation any longer, she saw the strange dark men had begun to dance in the rear, and the whole column skipped and leaped with Dionysiac fury. Ophelia staggered after them a few steps, delirious and hazy, and doubtful of her place in this or in any world. Then she turned, faltered, and sank down on the cold damp stone, gasping and shivering as the daemon organ croaked on, and the howling and drumming and tinkling of the mad procession grew fainter and fainter.  
Vaguely she was conscious of chanted horrors and shocking croakings afar off. Now and then a wail or whine of ceremonial devotion would float to her through the black arcade, whilst eventually there rose the dreadful incantation whose text she had read above the pulpit of that dance-hall church.  
"O friend and companion of night, thou who rejoicest in the baying of dogs and spilt blood, who wanderest in the midst of shades among the tombs, who longest for blood and bringest terror to mortals, Mormo, thousand-faced moon, look favourably on our sacrifices!"  
As the chant closed, a general shout went up, and hissing sounds nearly drowned the croaking of the cracked bass organ. Then a gasp as from many throats, and a babel of barked and bleated words—"Lilith, Great Lilith, behold the Bridegroom!"

...

Here ya go everyone! I hope you enjoyed, as always if you have any feedback, Pm me, leave a review and all that jazz.

As always, stay classy, stay awesome and have a lovely day.


	5. Cloak and Daggers

Cloak and Daggers

This chapter will mostly be in 3rd Person for easier reading for you guys, as there will a lot of different stories being told this chapter. I placed a Team Four Star reference in this story and if you find it you shall win eternal glory on this page...good luck.

Sorry for the stupidly long wait, my files had been wiped after a computer virus practically destroyed my computer and later my USB drive that held the copies of my stories. It took some scrambling, but I managed to get some old drafts of my stories up and running, again, I'm sorry for the stupidly long wait, please forgive me lol

3rd Person POV

Location: Citadel Council Chambers

Politics has never been a totally legitimate area of life, even in the advanced society known as Mass Effect, as corruption and underhanded tactics are not uncommon. In this particular sense, the Council has to make a deal with the head of Omega, as an entire space station of criminals, mercenaries and other less than reputable groups needs to have some form of law and order, no matter how corrupt or paltry it may be. The Council had made a deal with Aria while she was in power, a simple deal of rules; the Citadel has a small garrison on Omega, and they would be allowed to put some form of laws and order on the station.

Something they didn't consider was the possibility that Aria would be overthrown; she had an iron fist over her domain, her subjects feared and respected her. But alas, the reports started coming in, strange soldiers and thugs slaughtering those loyal to the Pirate Queen; and the scattered footage the Council had received for their own eyes only was shocking at best, horrifying at worst. The majority of the attackers fought like an angry mob, while some fought like professional soldiers; much to the chagrin of the Turian Councillor Sparatus.

"We have a situation that must be solved; either we make a deal with the new leader of Omega, or we wipe the station out; something we should have done a long time ago." The Turian scowled, his eyes full of disgust upon seeing the acts of depravity the Slaanesh followers committed, and the human Councillor David Anderson frowned in confusion at the Slaanesh symbols that covered the standards the forces waved wildly and that covered the newly captured station.

"We have no idea what we'd be going up against here, you've seen the same footage as I have, these bastards are unlike any other pirate group we've seen. Most are wild thugs, but it's the ones that fight and look like actual soldiers that worry me, and that's not including those giants that fight among them." David Anderson said with a nervous look on his face. The Salarian Councillor Valern had a strange look on his face, his mind racing in an attempt to see everything at once, saying nothing, his face having a concerned look that all could read. Lastly the Asarai Councillor Tevos, she had a horrified expression on her face as she witnessed the carnage in the station, but had a hardened look as she saw the cultists cutting down pirates and thugs as they went. The room was silent as the Council made up its collective mind on the situation; they looked at each other, trying to choose the lesser of two evils. To attack Omega would be more than attacking the new leadership; they would be attacking practically every single mercenary company this side of the Milky Way, but to resume their deal with Omega left them feeling uncertain. They had nothing on the leader of this group other than a name; Lilith Thrillseeker, nothing else. It was with an uncertain mind that they agreed to send a message to Omega, to this Lilith Thrillseeker, after all, she was only one woman, how much trouble could she cause?

...

Location... Medical Centre

Personnel... Nurse Fellen

As the Council disregards how much trouble one person can cause, nurse Fellen and the staff of a small medical clinic was learning that one person can indeed cause a lot of trouble. And if that person in question is a Religious Fanatic who can fight off Daemons, cultists, and Xenos; trouble is definitely in your immediate future.

Stepping slowly towards the enraged patient, Fellen put out his arm slowly. "Calm down ma'am everything is fine, you're safe now" The woman didn't seem to care, as she was continuing to crush Karyns neck, the poor Asari already unconscious and probably, if not saved quickly, dead. "Fellen! I have a shot," , one of the guards, a man by the name of Takiday said over his comm. "Hold your fire, let's see if we can end this peacefully," Fellen replied back. "Fellen! Karyn's in critical danger, you have thirty seconds or I'm putting a bullet in her." He hated to agree with his partner, but he was right. Stepping forward faster he reached his hand out to take Karyn from the woman, "Ma'am I promise you, you are safe. Please let her go!" The woman screamed in enraged anger and before she could do anything else Fellen and Takiday pulled Karyn off of the maddened woman. Fellen sat Karyn down onto a chair; coming back to her and crouching down beside Karyn, his hand subtly moving to beside hers. Fellen turned to Takiday "get her back to her room and get Jan to look over her injuries," Tak nodded and lifted the unconscious Asarai and carried her away. Watching them leave he approached the unconscious woman and lifted her back into her bed. As he rolled her back under the covers he caught a glimpse of a mark on her back, a familiar one; the mark of the soldiers who took over Omega station.

Stepping back slowly he approached the door and stood to the side as several nurses and doctors walked in. He looked to leave... but fearing that the woman may return to violence, he stayed, posting himself against the door with his weapon at the ready. All of this had happened around ten minutes ago, the new patient had arrived in the Critical area of the hospital, her body seemingly fine; it was only when a blood sample and several routine checks of the body and mind that things had become hard to explain. One of the nurses, a young Asarai by the name of Karyn had tried to examine the patient herself, only for the patient to wake up in a rage, resulting in the violence that had just occurred.

"Christ" Fellen said under his breath, looking upon the now unconscious woman in a mixture of dread and morbid curiosity; she was beautiful to be sure, even to a Turian like himself. But any beauty she had looked weathered and her body was covered in bruises, at first he had thought that she had been a prostitute judging by her clothes, or lack of them; that was until he had heard how she went toe to toe with a Spectre and almost won.

After Karyn woke up, they learned that the reason the woman had flown into a rage was because that Karyn had examined the strange mark on the woman's back. As soon as she did, the patient woke up in a rage, leading to the incident. Fellen looked away from the woman, feeling nothing but unease eating away at his mind

"What kind of person have we let into our midst? What is her story?" He mused, but a part of him did not want those questions to be answered, that the woman would stay sleeping. He remained there for the rest of the evening, watching, waiting, and fearing for the inevitable moment of the woman's awakening, and the possible chaos it might bring.

...

Tuchanka

Crawling over the sharp sand covered rocks with blisters of red sand and black ash crumbling and moving under his hand, the Krogan scout known as Jerako moved to the small rock slides edge.

Peering over, he pulled his set of binoculars to his eyes and he could see small space crafts and buildings in the distance; although these space ships were unlike anything he had seen on his long years on Tuchanka. They were massive cargo shuttles, covered in green muck, boils and rot. The buildings were much the same, small shack like bunkers with gun ports and rotting puss covering there crumbling and damaged stone.

Scanning the camp, something cruel and evil caught his eye.

At the centre, were the bodies of the dead; Krogan and Human alike. From their bodies rose a sickly flame; a dark rotten green that flickered into lighter and darker shades, burning up into a dark black could that spouted green waves of deadly energy and sickly mist. All around the bodies was a mustard coloured mist beginning to erase his sight, everything around it - ground, air and life - rotting away into a state of barely living death.  
He felt his throat fill with a hint of bile and could even hear a few of the younger scouts releasing it onto the ground.

From the mist he saw dark shadows walking around where the fire would be, raising staffs and arms into the air. He could hear almost whispers.  
He looked around and saw nothing, no one was speaking.  
"In life there is only pain and suffering... in death shall you be ever immortal..."  
He shook his head trying to ignore the whispers, but found them ever more calling.  
"Walk with us... walk in the shadow of death and life... walk where there is no pain, no suffering, no harm can ever touch you..."  
As Jerako tried to again ignore the thoughts, he saw more shadows rise from the mist. Hundreds- no, thousands of them.  
Growing in size and form the shadows burst from the yellow fog and he felt his body pale in fear. Marching from the alien camp, their limbs deformed, bodies blotted, puss and bile pouring from holes and cuts was the remains of the dead. Risen to life once again...

...

Krogan Main encampment

Urgnot Wrex was meeting with the remaining warlords and tribal heads, as most had been killed or joined the Outsiders, much to their disgust. Things were not going well for them with many skilled warriors along with young bucks left dead or worse in the wake of their new enemy. Out of the many scouts that were sent to do recon, only one came back, if you could call his state alive; his body was riddled with scars and sickness, his eyes weeping blood and scars leaking puss. Before he died, he gave his report, however ridiculous it sounded; and the slightly rattled Krogan leaders were left with that report in their minds, and to discuss their next move.

"This is ridiculous! Walking corpses, sorcerers and Demons? What children's story will we be walking into next? Will we be seeing talking animals?" one of the lesser chiefs spat out, a sneer on his face. While not the tactful response that an Asarai diplomat or a Tau Water Caste would deliver, the message was indeed sent and received loud and clear by the other members present. The assembled leaders grumbled and muttered to each other, each unwilling to believe what they have just seen. Some said that they should stand and fight, kill as many as they can before they die, a glorious end. Many scoffed at this idea, and suggested running, not the bravest of options, but it was on the table; while a small few raised two equally despised choices.

They could parley with the invaders, or they could ask someone for help.

"Ask the Citadel for help? Have you lost your mind along with your spine?" One warlord asked, disbelief on his features

"I'd rather die than ask those cowards for anything!" another scoffed. As they bickered, no one noticed the once loud Krogan enter the room until he spoke, rather, he fired his shotgun into the air.

"ENOUGH!" Wrex roared with his eyes bloodshot in a mixture of rage and lack of sleep. Ever since he had faced Loimos Rotgut in battle, he had been plagued by night terrors and horrific visions. He was weary of battle, weary of the constant struggle that surrounds his people for mere survival, and this weariness showed in his walk, once proud and haughty was reduced to a slumped shuffle, his shotgun hung at his side.

"We have no choice but to ask for help. This is for our species as a whole, not a simple fight!" His body may have been weaker, but his resolve was as boneheaded as always. Glaring at his subordinates, he continued to speak.

"If you want to waste you and your warrior's lives, then that's your problem, but know that Clan Urgnot and its allies will not help you on your suicide. I will contact the Citadel to save our sorry hides, and after this is all over, and then we can discuss the future." He growled, the warlord hating every moment of this decision; but it seemed to work, as the other leaders stopped talking and saluted their warlord, their minds made up in this endeavour. In that moment, a message was sent to the Citadel which was received, much to the surprise of all involved. All that they can do now is hope for bureaucracy to bring help fast or else all shall be lost...they're in deep shit.

...

Omega

The Pirate Haven known as Omega Station to the rest of the galaxy has had more than one kingpin. For years it was ruled by a Krogan warlord that was toppled by Aria and was given the mocking nickname Patriarch. Aria "The Pirate Queen" of Omega Station had ruled with brutality and fear, subjugating the lesser gangs that resided within the station itself, and having influence outside her domain. Those days looked like a day in the park after the Dancers took command; hedonists roamed around in packs, preying upon any who wandered too close to their dens of debauchery. Luckily for the messenger sent by the Citadel, she was armed and had an escort in the form of some of the Dancers themselves sent by their leader. The woman that was sent was no solider, indeed she was a diplomat; someone with next to no experience with firearms and melee weapons. Her name was Sarah Maxwell, a human of around thirty years, she had spent most of her life talking things out after hostilities had ended, or had helped end them; small issues mostly, nothing this momentous.

" _It's just another job Sarah, just with slightly bigger consequences should you fail"_ the woman said to himself, hoping to calm her nerves; but alas her surroundings and the atmosphere of barely controlled lust and violence did not cease, only raising her alarm. Her own escort was a mixture of what appeared to be old fashioned knights and a barely dressed mob. The former wore grand armour like the knights of yore, gleaming and shining in an unnatural light that seemed to shine from nowhere, but illuminated them nonetheless. Their weapons showed signs of loving, almost obsessive care along with a brutal array of nicks in the tips of their blades, reminding Sarah that the weapons had a purpose other than looking impressive. Their helms were carved into ornate faces, some human, some monstrous; despite the carved faces being more than a bit unnerving, they had a strange intricacy and beauty that took her breath away, the same way a sunset or sunrise is always awe inspiring. Banners flew proudly and almost garishly in the crowded station, and the many violent gangs and killers gave the procession a wide berth, most likely due to the other half of her escort.

While the Knights looked noble in appearance, if somewhat strange, the unruly mob looked like they belonged in either a BDSM dungeon or a battlefield, although from what some friends told her, that rule could apply to both places. They wore extremely revealing clothing, showing tattoos and piercings along with terrifying abnormalities that Sarah had never seen on anything normal, be that alien or human. Small horns, claws, scale and fur was seen on some, while others had extra limbs or even tails. As the Citadel diplomat was led through the winding streets and alleys of Omega, she finally saw it; Afterlife, the symbol of absolute power on Omega Station; it was different then what recent surveillance had shown, as the already wild looking club had been given a new look to show its new masters.

Garish colours covered the once grey exterior, giving it an almost threateningly festive, like the building was saying "have fun or else!" The symbols of the now ruling group flew on massive banners that dominated the sky, billowing in an unseen wind. As she was led through the entrance of the club, she saw great throngs of people dancing on the floors in a wild show of revelry. As they passed by the crowd however, she saw that things weren't so friendly, as several of the people were lying dead on the dance floor, knives in their chests, their heads crushed by blunt objects, or even having hearts torn out. Sarah paled, backing up quickly and almost falling over, where she was helped up by one of her escorts and led towards where Aria's VIP room was. There were heavily armed guards standing outside of the closed door, some smoking, others talking, and as the group approached, Sarah could hear a disturbing conversation between two of the guards.

"-so halfway through blowing me, the fucking hooker ods on Heroin" said one guard, his face covered by a blank mask with an unsettling smiley face on it, his movements were jerky and wild, and Sarah was extremely thankfully she couldn't see what the man was doing thanks to the fact the man was in the shadows, partially hidden from view.

"I really don't like discussing my ex girlfriend with you" The second guard said, thankfully looking like a normal person in military garb with cold eyes that seemed to flash as he looked at the Council diplomat, his voice and expression one of a over tired parent with a young child.

"I mean, yeah I still finished, but what kinda shit is that?" The first one continued on, regardless of his friend's annoyance. "For God's sake man, think of mother" The second guard snapped back, surprising Sarah with the fact that they're brothers.

The first guard paused for a moment, his movements suddenly calming and he breathed out a long sigh. "I'm jerking off right now" He cackled, madness evident in his voice as his brother sighed, the second guard looked up at Sarah and her escort.

"Whaddya want?" The guard said, his voice sounding worn and tired. "Is the boss in Luke?" The man that helped Sarah up asked, to which the guard now known to Sarah as Luke smirked.

"Well yeah she's in, but I wouldn't go in right now...she's busy." The escort nodded, than they looked at each other with smirks on their faces, looking down at the Diplomat. "Let her in, I'm sure the boss would just love to have a visitor right now" The first guard known as Jan laughed, somehow blowing smoke out of his blank mask "I've been hearing them go at it for hours, and I gotta say, the boss is certainly enjoying the breaking in of her new toy eh?" Jan roared with laughter, and to Sarah's surprise, Luke cracked a faint grin. "Those sounds were something human ears cannot unheard, things human vocal cords cannot repeat. In short, it was beautiful" Luke said, his worn face breaking into a wide smile, his previously cold eyes sparking with wild intensity. As the escort and guards alike laughed, Sarah was feeling more and more uneasy, as she heard a voice that was nearly impossible to hear rasp through the closed door; but whatever was said immediately shut up the escorts and guards alike.

The door opened and Sarah gasped as a massive man in strange armour stomped straight towards her, a myriad of needles, powder and pipes in his massive hands and around and in his mouth respectively. His eyes were slightly unfocused as he was clearly strung out on the dangerous amount of drugs in his system, but he seemed to regain control of himself as he loomed over the diplomat. The giant looked down at Sarah and stared deep into the woman's eyes before grunting and gesturing for the diplomat to follow him, which she did after a shocked second of surprise. She walked into the room and as soon as she did, her nose was violated by the stench of sweat, sex, and drugs; making her lightheaded and unsteady.

As Sarah's head stopped spinning, she gasped at the woman in front of her, or rather her clothing or lack of it would be a better word. She wore basically nothing, simple strips of cloth around her indecent parts but everything else was out for Sarah's eyes to drink in. The unearthly woman seemed amused her Sarah's expression and said nothing for a few moments, then she smiled and motioned for the diplomat to come forward.

"Don't be shy, I don't bite...much" She purred, her voice soft and flirtatious. The massive man stood in the back of the room, his expression unreadable. Sarah's mind snapped back to her job.

" _Alright Sarah, back to work, ignore the practically naked woman, just thing of something else, anything else!"_ Sarah desperately tried to regain focus on her job she was given, and within a few strenuous moments, her mind regained its clarity as she heard the unnaturally beautiful woman known to her as Lilith Thrillseaker get up and approach her.

"Why are you here? You're certainly not with the gangs or my own forces; so on whose behalf are you here?" Her previously soft and flirtatious voice had hardened slightly, and her eyes were sharp and analytical; a surprising shift in behaviour from what Sarah had expected.

"I am representing the Citadel Council, they have sent me to make a offer of peace and appeasement. We will look the other way when you are conducting your less illegal business, and in return, we will keep a small presence on this station so my bosses can have a small piece of mind that they can control the station should you break this agreement. This offer will only be offered once, Aria took the deal, so what will you do?" Sarah saw a strange smirk cross the face of Lilith when she mentioned the former ruler of Omega.

"Strange...you speak of her like she's dead. No, it would have been a shame and a waste to kill someone of such beauty. Would you like to see her? She's very close, in the next room to be precise." The Diplomat felt surprise at such a statement, as the actions of her forces would have led her to believe that she was cruel and violent. Without a word, Sarah nodded; as soon as she did, she noticed a strange grin consume the face of Lilith Thrillseaker as she pressed a button on a remote she had pulled from behind her back.

For a split second, there was silence. That silence was quickly broken by a soft buzzing that got louder and longer the harder Lilith pushed the button. The door opened, and Sarah unconsciously had stepped back and gasped as the woman who had once been respected and feared across the Milky Way crawled into the room. Markings of Lilith's gang was on her, along with strange carvings and symbols. But there were some things the woman recognized; vulgar words and names were scrawled on the former Pirate Queen's ass and breasts, along with a collar and chain around the neck. As the Asarai crawled past Sarah, the diplomat could now clearly see what the source of the buzzing was; it was the same source of the Asarai's jittering and twitching gait. As Sarah began to recover, the former Pirate Queen and curled around Lilith's legs and kissed her feet, the noise filling the silence that had been created by shock and surprise.

"I will agree to this treaty on one condition" The sensual jezebel purred, her smile slightly smug at Aria's ministrations. "While I was taking over this station, I lost someone important to me; I would ask that you look for her"

Sarah nodded "of course, who are we looking for here? A soldier, commander; something like that?" To which the gang leader paused before continuing

"No, nothing so mundane; her name is Ophelia, and she is...my wife." Ignoring the surprised look on Sarah's face, she continued "I first met her on the battlefield; she had been taken from her home as child and indoctrinated into a violent and cruel cult called the Imperial Creed, the dominant religion back home."

Sarah noticed a sneer grew over Lilith's face as she spoke this religion that was foreign to anyone who had the misfortune of calling for forty-first millennium home.

"I had defeated her fanatical kin, and I had thought that I would never see her again; I was wrong. I found her again when she had been taken prisoner by a crew of vile pirates...they had broken her mind as well as her body." Lilith said, tears pouring down her face, and to anyone who did not know the true story behind this lie, they would have believed Lilith completely, as crocodile tears have a way of moving most people.

While she spoke, she passed Sarah a codex with all the information the Cult leader chose to share with the Diplomat. "I need to have her back, I fear for what will happen to her without me there to help her. She will be confused and will be saying anything that her mind makes up; from talk of Demons to killing of alien life, these were the teachings of the Creed. Please, I need Ophelia back.

Sarah nodded "very well, if that is our agreement, then it shall be so. I will give this back to my leaders, and we shall have an agreement along with a search and rescue." The Cult leader and the Diplomat nodded, the former sitting back down while the latter left the station, unaware of the lie she had been told, and the woman is will be told to track down.

...

Lilith POV

I grin as the diplomat leaves the room to be escorted back to her ship. I now know what a Tzeentch cultist must feel like when a scheme comes together, it's exhilarating. All it took were some fake tears along with a faux sob story and I have these fools eating out of my hand. As I sit and revel in this victory, I remembered what I had been planning on doing before the Diplomat had arrived.

"Svonux, let us go; we must speak with the Twins" my loyal servant paused for a moment before nodding, following me outside the room. As we journeyed towards where the eldest twin would be, I began remembering why I always went to her first. She was grand, believing that she deserved all the beauty and grandeur that came from worshipping She Who Thirsts. It probably came from her family, as both she and her brother were once Imperial Nobles, and they were the most who fought their home world under my heel. As we got closer, I began to hear chanting and screaming; as we arrived at the source of the screaming, I began to smile. Before me stood the Eldest Twin Alice; she was dressed in grand flowing golden robes that just covered the awe-inspiring wings that were billowing and fluttering in the unnatural winds that blasted all around her. Silk gloves covered her hands and went up to her elbows, as she hated having something as inferior to her as the ground she walked upon to sully herself. In front of her was a massive pile of dead thugs and cultists alike and a massive Warp Portal. Her soldiers were killing anything that came out, their grand blades and guns flashing and firing nonstop. Little by little, a large building was brought through the Portal; a massive Cathedral like building that towered over everything else in the area. Stone and the gothic style of most Nobles dominated the structure, the banners of her once proud Noble Family flew in the swirling vortex that was the Warp and the chanting of lesser cultists permeated the air.

With a bark of the Dark Tongue, the portal closed with the summoning of the Cathedral being complete. Alice turned around; her hair powered white and curled into a massive coiffed hairdo on top of her head. But the thing that made most people stare wasn't her clothes or hair; it was the mask. It was a thing of beauty, porcelain white face with gold and jewels adorning the top and sides along with blood red lips that stood out from the lack of colour the rest of the face held.

Bowing formally, she spoke, her voice being proud and strong. "Milady, my troops have been hunting down these vagrants that seem to delude themselves into believing that they hold claim to this place. Filthy peasants and Xenos have no right to land that I choose to settle" Her voice held scorn and disgust at the massive pile of Humans and Xenos that had bullet holes and sword slashes peppering their bloodied corpses. I smirk at the finesse that her troops possess; far different from her brothers thugs. "It is your job after all to start cleaning house, just remember we can't go too far...at least not in a way that will be noticed." Alice nodded, her eyes flashing evilly. "That is indeed my job Milady; cleaning house, and making it ready to be seen by the rest of the galaxy. I'll have this disgusting station made suitable for us superior folk soon."

I smile, eager to see what my servant shall do while I am otherwise occupied.

"Good; now, I do believe it is time to check on your brother" as soon as I finished speaking, Alice's eyes burned with rage and hatred at the mere mention of her Twin. Their bad blood came from many things, mainly the fact that Alice had turned her younger brother into a vegetable and her personal pincushion for over a decade after a rivalry had turned extremely ugly far faster than anyone had expected.

After we left Alice's citadel, we began to go into the depths of Omega Station, as Boris always did hate the light, preferring the shadows wherever he lived, again due to his torment at the hands of his sister. As we went deeper and deeper into the bowels of the station, I began to hear the sounds I associated with the younger twin; a mixture of cheers and screams of pain. A large but simple iron door was guarded by a couple Traitor Guardsmen, but only half of them were paying attention as they were seemingly distracted by the hookers, Human and Xeno alike that surrounded them. The illusion of incompetency was shattered when I noticed the looks in the guards eyes; they were focused and hungry, the look of dazed hedonism was a ploy to give themselves a second of preparation before a fight would break out; pretty smart actually. A simple but dramatic sign hung over the door in neon letters.

"Amsterdamned" I mutter to myself, chuckling slightly at the play on words. As we passed through the door; the sounds of rolling dice and violence got louder and louder until it was almost deafening until we finally arrived at the source of the cacophony. A large throng of humans, Xenos and Mutants congregated around massive tables where card games and dice were being played; only with a twist. Seeing how this was Boris, the rules were simple; if you lose a hand of cards or a get a bad dice roll, you lose a finger or toe. If you continue to lose, you lose the appendage; and proof of this was everywhere as several of the occupants in the shabby gambling hall had replacement limbs and missing fingers from what I could see.

At last I spotted him, and he still looked as I remembered him; wearing a pure black suit and gloves that covered him completely. On top of his head was a top hat; an odd choice to be sure, but Boris was anything if not that; his mind and body warped and twisted by his life. A black cloud seemed to surround him, blocking any and all eyes from seeing his features save his eyes; they were two burning, bloodshot orbs that rolled and bulged as they sought to see everything at once. He was sitting down at a large table on a simple chair; dice and credits placed before him and a cruel grin on his face as he won every time, much to the immediate pain of the others at the table.

He stood as soon as he saw me, bowing low and dramatically and in a booming voice he exclaimed "Milady, I thank you for visiting my humble abode of vice and thrills; please, enjoy yourself and of course everything is free for you" His voice was still as deep and rich as I remembered, the only remainder of his old life of class and beauty. I had only seen his face once, and it still haunts my nightmares. He poured himself a glass of the way too potent swill that is somehow considered drinkable alcohol by these thugs and downed it in a single go.

"So milady, what can this humble sorcerer do for you? Spread terror, blood, broken bones and anguish wherever I go?" He chuckled, making the nearby glasses and dice rattle as his unnaturally deep voice often had that effect on things.

I smile at his almost childish sense of humor despite at how horrifying his job could get, I guess that was because he never really had a childhood and no control over his own body for over a decade; it was the only way he managed to stay sane.

"Nothing so dramatic I'm afraid my servant, I was wondering if you could keep tabs on the Gang leaders that used to rule over affairs and deal with them in your usual fashion while I am away." The Youngest Twin bowed once more, a small toothy grin being seen through the haze of shadows he creates.  
"Your wish is my command mistress"

With a nod, Svonux and I walked back my private room in Afterlife, where I gazed over my new domain and sighed happily; it's good to be the Queen.

...

3rd Person POV

Tuchunka: Pilgrim encampment, Nurgle Shrine

Akakios Blightspewer stood at a molded and rusted pulpit as he led the faithful in worship of their god Nurgle. The small church was always packed to the rafters with bloated and stinking masses of flesh that were once Human beings and Alien life; and their hymns could be heard throughout the camp no matter what time of day it was for there was always someone inside the church; the priests running around from place to place, their cracked skin showing signs of infestation as they prayed and preached throughout their shifts.

The ancient Sorcerer Priest smiled as much as his leathery skin would allow, and as the hymns and worship reached its zenith, he suddenly staggered to the right, clutching his head in pain and nearly fell off the stage in his fit.

"Your grace, what is it?" A priest asked, concern on his face before he too was overtaken by the same fit as the Sorcerer until each Priest was writhing and swooning, the Dark Tongue pouring out of their mouths like so much bile and puke. The congregation was soon swept up in this fit, and this sudden stop of activity drew the attention of Loimos, where Akakios out the doors of the crumbling structure.

"What the Hell is going on here?" the Plague Marine demanded in a rare moment of aggravation, his gurgling voice crackling in irritation. Akakios said nothing for a moment, his body rapidly mutating, growing tendrils and a extra arm before the rapid mutations ceased, along with his shakes, the church returning to a semblance of silence, as the cultists muttered and whispered amongst themselves in breathless awe at the sign of their faith. Akakios quickly moved back into the church, ignoring the anger of the Traitor Astartes, and a quick hushed conversation was held amongst the priests and the Blightcaster before a small mob of robed clergymen walked out of the church and knelt before Loimos, the ancient Sorcerer at the front.

"My lord...We have had a vision from the Plague Lord" Any irritation on the Plague Marine's face vanished instantly, replaced by awe and a touch of fear as the Clergymen nodded in reverence. "We have seen a soul being ripped from the embrace of Nurgle, a soul that is dead yet not alive. The soul was forced back into the body of a woman, a human woman with red hair and green eyes. We know not what this means, but we have a name; Shepard...Commander Shepard."

...

And after an unforgivable and stupidly long wait, here is another chapter. It may be a bit rough around the edges here and there, but that's what happens when several old drafts are meshed together in a Frankenstein's Monster attempt at bringing life back to this story XD

I will have Da Orks Are Ere ready when I can, when that happens I sadly cannot say at the moment. Thanks for staying with me and I hope you enjoy. Love, Hate, any feedback or Questions? Please leave a review or PM me and I will get back to you personally.

And as always, stay classy, stay awesome and have a lovely day.


	6. Guns, Blood and Daemons Oh My

Guns, Blood, and Daemons; Oh My!

Hello everyone, it's me again.

Thank you so much for being so patient with me; it has been an utterly inexcusable amount of time to wait for a simple chapter. I could bore you with the details, but all I will say is that a bunch of personal stuff happened all at once, and work became a lot harder on me physically and mentally.

But that's enough from me, may you all enjoy this new chapter of Dancers and Pilgrims

...

A question that has been asked since of the dawn of mankind is this; what happens after we die? And now I can answer that question; we all go to Hell. Not the fire and brimstone of an ancient Earth religion, no something far worse. An infinite void of torment and war, where the souls of the damned are trapped on a universal chessboard where beings push anything smaller than them around in an endless game of gaining ground and losing it; of victories and defeats; yes, War is Hell, and death is merely the next campaign. I remembered fighting on strange and horrifying battlefronts, dying and coming back over and over again to fight again. The last thing I remember was seeing this...thing looking at me in the eyes and grabbing me by the shoulder; that's when everything began breaking apart, and hearing someone call my name.

-From the private journal of Commander Maria Shepard

…

Cerberus Base

3rd Person POV

Sitting up, the woman known to the universe as Maria Shepard felt something akin to vertigo, only a million times worse; she fell back onto whatever it was that she had been lying down on, feeling dizziness and nausea assault her body. After a few torturous minutes, the feeling passed, allowing her to rise to my feet. It was only after a few moments that she realized someone had been talking, but she had been too out of it to notice. Seeing a pistol in a locker, she grabs it as explosions rip through the room she was in. After clearing out some mechs and meeting up with a soldier named Jacobs; they began to go down to a Shuttle Jacobs was talking about; but she wasn't paying attention.

It felt like something was watching her, that someone was right behind the red haired woman, muttering to themselves, just low enough for it to fade into background noise among the gunshots and chaos of battle. It was a relief to be on a mundane battleground again, although she was not entirely sure if what she had seen was real or some ethereal being's idea of fucked up idea of a cosmic joke. As drifted off into space as she tried to remember what had happened to her; only coming back to her senses thanks to the sound of a gunshot and the collapsing of a now dead Wilson.

Shepard glared at Miranda, the woman who had been guiding me throughout the base; and even from the start the former commander didn't like her. To Shepard, the dark haired woman, Miranda looked and sounded like a total bitch, her holier than thou attitude and all the traits of someone with their heads up their asses. Shepard glanced down at the still warm corpse of Wilson; she hadn't trusted the shifty looking man either from the start, his behavior basically screamed sketchy.

"Now, let's go to the-

*plop*

The black haired woman down in confusion and disgust as something fell through the metal ceiling and had landed on her shoulder. A large wriggling maggot around the size of her thumb was on her shoulder, writhing and jittering about before the Officer threw it off her using Biotics with a barely contained hiss of disgust. The corridor seemed to darken and groan as a flash of light snapped into existence in front of the confused trio. The light seemed to bend and twist as screaming of the most horrific variety burst forth from the anti-light that poured into the corridor. Each member of the group felt something different as they stared into the light before them; Jacobs felt slivers of fear eating into his psyche, Miranda had a feeling in her gut that was eerily similar to when one looks down a cliff face, the urge to jump was prevalent in the back of her mind. While Shepard felt something far worse than simple pseudo feelings; she felt a cold sensation creeping through her body, starting at the tips of her extremities and spreading through the rest of her. Her body felt like it was being crushed, her eyeballs going bloodshot. Horror filled her as a single thought managed to sluggishly arrive in her mind.

" _I'm dying…again"_ the thought was slow moving, as her body was in full panic mode. She nearly fell to her knees, her training as a soldier kept her where she was, her weapon raised to the rift between the Materium and the Immaterium; a testament to the bravery of the woman who sacrificed herself to save all she knew. However, what came out of the breach was unlike anything she had ever seen in the waking world.

The being that stepped into the corridor could have once been mistaken for human; this point was long passed. The corpse wearing the formerly elaborate robes of a priest leaned heavily on his staff; a disgusting stave that despite the appearance of wood seemed to be soft like rotted flesh and oozed foul liquids that burned through the metal floor. His skull was grossly malformed, with bulges ripping through the already cracked leather posing as skin; one eye was bulging out its socket, covered in a myriad of pulsing green and black veins while his other eye was seemingly crushed by the weight of his skull. A bulging and writhing sack was sticking out his back, where several slimily black tendrils writhed and flailed around in slow arches. Jagged teeth spat blackish bile onto the floor, which seemed to morph into disgusting piles of half formed fungal matter; causing the stench of decay to fill Shepard's nostrils as her body half remembered that smell; it was the exact same stench that had permeated everything during her time spent in that half remembered Hell. Miranda raised her Pistol and fired at the walking corpse, but stopped when the dead man simply raised his hand, and before everyone's shocked eyes, the bullets corroded into rusted ash.

"Useless" The corpse spat, his voice hoarse and unbearably low, it make all assembled shudder in disgust. "This is the one who would steal from my master!? Bah!" The man, if indeed that's what he was spat on the floor, his eyes showing anger and indignation towards the Cerberus Officer. He moved closer towards Miranda even as the Officer had her own rifle pointed squarely at the invader's head. "One more step, and I'll drop you" Her calm voice as cold as the void; despite the killer's promise in her words, the revenant glared at the weapon with a glare of apathy so potent it was almost palatable. The gun withered into dust while in the Cerberus operative's hands, crumbling into nothing.

"Do not speak to me, you are not worth my time blasphemer!" the Nurglite sneered, his warped body moving with unnatural speed as he closed the gap, grabbing Miranda by her throat and lifting her into the air. Despite the frailty that the Sorcerer seemed to possess, he had the strength of something unnatural; and he said nothing as he choked the Cerberus Officer against the wall, merely staring at her in a mixture of disgust and anger. He muttered to himself under his breath, like he was speaking with someone that no one else could hear; suddenly placing his other hand on Miranda's face.

Miranda began screaming as something began burning into her forehead, and over the pain she could hear the man speak again. "Know this unbeliever…You have been marked for death…you shall know nothing but endless war; for you have insulted Nurgle greatly…May we meet again Miss Lawson" The bloated corpse said, his eyes burning with a dark light that gave the highly trained Cerberus Officer a feeling of the upmost fear even as pain ripped through her body. Oddly, the being felt strangely lacking in substance; like it was slowly losing its corporeal hold on the waking world. Suddenly, the black haired woman fell onto the floor and stared in shock as her attacker's body seemed to be flickering in and out of view; despite this, the Sorcerer turned towards Shepard, quickly closing the distance and putting a rapidly transparent hand on her face in a disturbing gesture that the horrified Commander did nothing about, as fear had paralysed her. "I know you feel it Commander…confusion and shock are in your eyes. Do not fear you poor misguided soul…you shall return to Nurgle's hand soon; it is there you belong my child. I shall see you again one day my daughter; in the Blessed Garden of Nurgle…That I promise." And with that, the being known to the Plagued Pilgrims as Akakios Blightspewer vanished from the sight of the horrified trio, his cackling laughter fading alongside his seemingly temporary body. The only thing left behind was the Mark on Miranda's forehead that was slowly fading from view, and the horror that had revealed itself to the Milky Way. …. Omega: Higher Levels  
Omega was known for its' swarming hordes of gangsters and prostitutes, each feeding off of each other in a toxic cycle of violence and vice; because of these activities, any sensible person of higher standing in galactic society knows to never enter that particular mercenary hub. That was going to change; but in order for that to happen, a general purge was ordered from the lips of Alice Millmour: time to clean house. … The order had been given, the time for the Purge was now; anyone caught in killing zone was considered fair game to the selected Highborn aristocrats. The appointed time was during midday, the busiest time in Omega; this was intentional as to spread fear and panic just as quickly as blood. Vox and cameras had been set in all corners of the higher levels to capture the grisly days' events; all was ready; the elevators being shut off, and all escape options sealed…blood shall run through the cracks of Omega Station; and it shall be broadcasted to the galaxy.  
Let the show begin. …  
The streets were alive with confusion as many discovered that there was no way off the higher levels, the Gothic palace overlooking all in this domain. Large screens dropped down, revealing the masked visage of Alice Millmour; a hint of smugness in her otherwise detached voice as she began to speak to the gibbering Xenos and squatters; effectively silencing the mob.  
"Attention ne'er-do-wells, Xenos, and any who are beneath me; hear me well. This area is now considered off limits to your kind, that being you lower life forms. As of now; you shall be purged with fire, bullet and blade, as you should be. She Who Thirsts will be pleased with this sacrifice; so rejoice! Today you shall contribute to the betterment of your superiors. I shall enjoy hearing your screams; goodbye." And with that, the message ended, the screens switching to many different angles of each higher level of Omega; confusing many in said levels, as around half of them dismissed the threat as an elaborate prank by their new rulers. The other half had no such delusions, nervously slinking into the shadows where they could find them or drawing weapons when they could not. There was no grand army that came barreling out of the darkness, nor was there some eldritch terror to rip body and soul apart; for what came out next confused many of the wretches that squatted in that most squalid of space faring stations.  
They were four in number; each different from the other, yet each clearly being different than anything the denizens of Omega Station had yet to see in their lives. The first being they saw was a man was being carried on an armoured throne, his laughter easily being heard throughout the corridors of the floor. As the entourage became visible, people began to scramble away; for fear had taken their wits.  
The man himself was not the object of their terror, but what carried his throne; gruesome servitors encased in grand golden armour that shone like the sun despite their hideousness. Their limbs were welded inside the legs of the throne; bone melding with gold and iron; their mouths replaced with vox grills. The man who sat on the throne was dressed like a king of old; grand gilded plate armour was covered by endless medals of honour that seemed far too numerous to be true acts of bravery; although none were too dull witted to mention this fact. An expensive cybernetic eye was covering his right socket, while his remaining eye was alert and full of greed as he stared out at the Xenos and Humans alike. A golden beard shone in the dull light of the station, his smile brighter still as another laugh burst forth from his mouth, perfectly white teeth been seen by those closest to him. In his hands was an ornate hunting rifle, esoteric symbols and runes being easily seen on the customized stock while the Mark of Slaanesh was on the barrel. His name was Lord Otto Torrance, Third of his Name; a Highborn of his homeworld, madness and greed shone in his single eye as he laughed over and over like a gleeful child, danger following every guffaw.  
While Lord Torrance could be seen by his grand arrival, the beautiful woman gliding to his right quickly stole the crowd's eyes as she seemed to glide across the filthy ground; many in the mob having the sudden urge to lie down and allow themselves to be used as a living carpet to avoid the dirt sullying such a woman. Milky white skin was a stark contrast to the royal purple gown the beauty wore; gold trim being just visible in the sea of satin that cascaded around the woman's unseen feet. Seemingly delicate silk gloves covered her hands and went up her arms, concealing any flesh that the crowds may gaze upon. Unseen blades were stashed next to her legs underneath the mass of fabric, hiding her deadly secrets to any would be attacker or suitor. Her face, while beautiful would have reminded many there of a painting or a statue; unearthly, haunting and utterly untouchable. Her name was Lady Maria Eridia, and she hungered for blood.  
The next man drew many eyes to himself, mainly due to the fact he was riding a robot horse; the metallic equine snorting and neighing as the Highborn pulled on the reins, his gaze being that of a man looking upon vermin. Several retainers and assorted servants also rode robotic steeds, their buckles and weapons shining from being carefully polished by their slaves who scurried around each of the Highborn, their gazes downcast. A dark blue uniform looked out of place among the armour and classy dress that the decedent Highborn, but the rest of Sir William Archon fit into the bizarre scene; a tall navy blue hat and a bushy white mustache that covered his upper lip; he looked every bit a Nobleman. A beautifully made Power Sword sat at his hip, while a revolver was in his left hand; his gaze looking upon the station with outright disgust, his hand tightening on his weapons, the promise of death glinting in his eyes.  
The final man was not visible at first, as he had blended in with the shadows, a cameleoline cloak around his entire body, all one could see were his eyes; glowing green with unnatural light and focus. Unseen in his spectral hands were his weapons; untold knives, some of the Power weapon variety, others of the simple brutal steel mold. A set of pistols were nestled at his sides while a heavily customized Autogun was in his hands; a telescopic scope being the easy to see modification. Unlike the other Highborn, he said nothing, no unnatural effects rolled off him like it had for the others; if anything the absence of such terrors would be more unsettling, he said nothing, he was nothing…his name was Rien Khali, last of his Name, and his prey has nowhere to hide.  
For a moment, all was still. The mad laughter of Lord Torrance petered out into a unsettling titter that unnaturally echoed around the corridors before that too was smothered by the weight of the unseen Rien. Without a word, the mute sprung forwards, and with two equally silent slashes, a Turian's throat burst open in a spray of blue blood, raining down on the horrified wretches. To the mob's credit, they kept their cool for a surprisingly long time; after all, this was Omega, violence was common place. The thundering of hooves and slashing of Power Swords quickly broke the resolve of the crowd; causing screams to break out as the violence began in earnest.  
The laughter of Lord Torrance became an abominable roar as his servitors lurched forwards, their sheer weight crushing those who had been knocked to the ground by the panicking mob; the thundering crack of his rifle turned skulls into so much pulp. Every so often, he would command his retinue to stop; waddling out onto the ground below to begin feasting on the dead, his smile growing ever wider as ichor and blood gushed from split gums and cracking teeth. The insane Highborn's feast was only interrupted by ever more laughter, spittle and blood pouring from his jaws.  
The ground was stained with yet more gore as Lady Eridia began her deadly dance with so many unwilling partners. Blades appeared from under her billowing dress, each frill held unseen death for the few unfortunate enough to be caught in the arc of her vicious attacks. All the while, her eyes were cold and analytical as lives ended all around her; their screams ending in quick succession, as unlike her compatriots, she saw little point in needless bloodshed. Her thrill came from the dance of death, the sleight of hand that ended countless lives; for murder and violence was art, and she was quite the practitioner.  
The thunder of hooves, the cry of the horn and the charge of cavalry; this was the Hunt made manifest, the duty of anyone of Highborn standing. From Orks to his fellow primates, Sir William Archon hunted them all; for the Hunt was all that mattered, one more head to add to his wall. Barking orders at his fellows, the group of horsemen began their charge towards a small group of Batarian pirates that had taken cover behind some hastily made barricades. Firing their revolvers in unison, the Highborn charged forwards, curses and slurs pouring from their mouths as they raised their blades; hatred of the Xeno fueling their bloodlust, for the Hunt was the bane of any lesser lifeforms that dare stain the Highborn's sight.  
While the pirates had kinetic barriers which would have easily held out against the paltry weapons of the Milky Way galaxy, they were around as helpful as wet paper against bolt pistols, shredding the supposedly sturdy shield alongside blood as several of the pirates were thrown off their feet, screams turning into gurgles as blood filled their throats. As their multiple eyes glazed over, the metallic hooves of the rampaging cavalry crushed any writhing forms left alive; their moans and futile beginning quickly being overshadowed by the cheers of the mad, the clinking of glasses filled with the richest wine followed by the silence of the grave as the marauders left for new aliens to lay low.  
As the other three continued their rampage, the unseen form of Rien Khali stalked his prey, utterly silent as the mobs of filthy and desperate drug addicts, con men and criminals scrambled away as fast as their limbs could carry them. Unlike the other Highborn, he had no fancy tools or daemonic weapons to aid him in his tasks; all he possessed was his patience and a gun. Such a virtue was used to deadly effect as every so often, a Asarai or Turian's head would suddenly explode outwards, showering all nearby with brain matter and bits of bone, each piece propelled forwards by an explosive tipped round; his victims not even having enough time to make a sound as their lives were snuffed out by the vindictive Highborn. Every shot fired meant the death of a Xeno, every death a prayer to She Who Thirsts; the Xeno had its purpose in the grand scheme of things to be sure. Much like the cattle of ancient Terra, the alien's shared purpose was to be killed and feasted upon, much to the delight of the silent Blank, whose eyes burned with as much hatred as the cold orbs could muster. …  
Throughout the orgy of murder and defilement, the painted eyes of Alice Millmour watched the carnage, an unseen smile of delight on her face. Her glee was interrupted however by a sudden throbbing from the back of her skull; a constant reminder of the marring of her perfection, a mocking jeer from her so called twin. Stewing in her murderous rage, the eldest child of the Millmour household didn't notice several pairs of eyes watching the decedent Sorceress; eyes that promised violence and savage retribution. Standing up, her dress and wings billowing out as she did so; the decadent Highborn began walking away from the scenes of murder, her masked face hiding all emotions. The pain brought back all the wonderful memories she had of her homeworld; her years of sadistic torture towards her brother, she loved it all. Barking orders to many cowering slaves nearby, the enslaved wretches began to tend to her needs, from her hair to drink, she glared at what she deemed to be lesser lifeforms. "Milady, it appears that there is talk amongst the rabble below of an attack against your glorious citadel due to our attack. Should we crush them now?" The voice of William Archon came into her mind via the mental link she had with all under her command. "No, I would wish to have all my enemies in one place; tell the others to let those disgusting Xenos and filthy peasants believe they have some inkling of a chance against us. Recklessness leads to foolishness, bring me any you capture alive, I will need to perfect my art in this new galaxy." Cutting the connection, Alice sighed softly as she heard the gunfire and screaming of dying men, women and children; it was messy work clearing the galaxy of lower beings, but the end product would be worth it.

As anarchy reigned in the highest levels of Omega, the lowest underbelly of that station was alive with illegal business and vices of all shades and kinds; nothing was too vile for the new depraved rulers of the Underhive, the newly dubbed section that Boris Millmour held in his black gloved hands. As his troops ravaged anyone unfortunate enough to be caught out past curfew, the youngest son of house Millmour looked upon some wounded gang members with a half mad gaze. "So…let me get this straight. You not only lost the shipment, but it was because of one Xeno?" The towering Sorcerer said with a discomforting lack of anger in his voice, the deep tone causing some nearby objects to shudder. "Y-yes boss, he came out of nowhere, killed our boys and- "and what?" the youngest Millmour interrupted, his voice still equally cold "he…destroyed the shipment" the ganger finished, his heavily tattooed face being a mask of complete fear; yet the knowledge of imminent death kept him rooted to the spot. For a moment that seemed to be hours to all nearby, Boris simply looked at his underlings; and slowly slinked out of his chair, walking towards the cowering ganger, his mouth trying to form audible words, yet nothing seemed to come out. "Look at me Malcom." The hysteric criminal kept his head down, hoping beyond reason that he would be ignored. "I said…LOOK AT ME!" His voice changing into a roar that caused several criminals running as fast as their legs could carry them. Ignoring the routing pirates and other assorted scum, the Sorcerer continued his grip on the pale ganger, his voice softening into a whisper as he began dragging Malcom over to his table; throwing him into it. "Now, as I was saying. You've done me a great disservice Malcom; normally I would simply kill you; you know what I mean, setting your innards on fire while I roasted your own eyes over the flames, having your mind implode on itself and have you body fall apart at the seams. The options are practically endless…but you my good fellow have done something beyond mere failure; you failed Lilith; for that shipment contained enough Purple Sun to keep our mistress content for around a month…and you lost it." The remaining renegades flinched as small bursts of flame came out of their master's eyes, briefly illuminating what anyone unfortunate to gaze upon it could call a face; albeit that term would be a very loose meaning of that word. Placing an almost friendly hand on the ganger's shoulder, he began to lead the petrified murderer down into the darkest parts of Omega, where even Boris's troops rarely venture into. After what seemed like hours, they arrived at their destination; a simple iron door, blood and claw marks surrounding the metal gateway. The stench of blood covered the area, while viscera were crushed beneath their feet, releasing its noxious mephitis.  
Throwing the ganger through the door, the Sorcerer quickly closed it; and as soon as the hatch was slammed shut; a blood chilling scream filled the area, the ripping of flesh and bone quickly followed this cacophony, ending in the pooling of blood from in between the door and metal floor. Walking away from the blood and screaming, Boris chuckled softly to himself. "The Maw feeds quite well tonight it seems; all in a day's work." As the screams and blood flowed out into the night's sky, the insane sorcerer made his way to his palace, an evil grin still on his face. … Terminus Systems Medical Clinic

While the forces of Slaanesh began their reign of terror in earnest; the woman known as Ophelia Belleforest opened her eyes to the waking world once more; albeit sluggishly and with a pounding headache that threatened to send the Battle Sister back into unconsciousness. As the pounding in her head slowly subsided, the fanatical warrior began to look around the hospital room she had found herself in; from what little she remembered before she had been subdued, the Battle Sister recalled her being captured by Xenos and their human puppets. This thought clashed with what she now saw around her; lavish surroundings by the standards of a hospital in the forty first millennium, although the feeling of her being watched was obvious as grim soldiers in faceless masks stood at the edges of the room; although Ophelia relaxed slightly as she saw that they were human…only slightly.

Trying to rise, the Battle Sister saw that she was restrained to the bed; and upon testing her bonds, the guards at the door began edging closer to her, their movements careful edging onto fearful.

" _As it should be, after all, they face a righteous daughter of the Emperor"_ With a grim smile, the Battle Sister simply watched as the doors opened and a nervous looking young man walked in, his style of dress letting Ophelia know that he was doctor along with all the signs of someone who was holding himself together by nerves alone. The young man sat down next to Ophelia's bed, his breathing settling down as the guards shuffled closer towards the bound woman.

"I would kill you now heathen, were I not bound, you would feel the wrath of the Emperor!" A recording of Ophelia's own voice echoed out from the doctor's Omni Tool, and shortly afterwards, a holographic image of the Battle Sister was shown alongside the nurse whom she had nearly killed. The recording paused and zoomed onto a very particular symbol that had been carved into Ophelia's back: the Mark of Slaanesh.

"Mind telling me what that is? All that we know is that a band of murderers, rapists and worse all bare this mark on their bodies and flags. Unless it's just one huge fucking coincidence, I think you better start talking to me unless you'd like to have a talk with a Specter." The doctor was regaining his confidence has he looked down at the bound woman before him; for surely she was utterly incapable of harming him. How wrong he was.

"I…"

"Yes?" the doctor leaned in, positioning himself so his ear was a breath's away from Ophelia's mouth

"I will never bow to you Heathen!" With a roar, the Battle Sister lunged forwards. A spray of red filled the air, followed by an ear splitting scream, for ironically, that was indeed what the doctor had lost. Clutching at the side of his now bleeding head, red gushed out of the hole where his right ear used to be, the doctor's attention had been distracted for long enough for the zealot to free herself from the restraints made out of mere metal. Metal is nothing in the face of sheer faith, not if said faith called for the utter annihilation of all beneath them.

"I am Ophelia Belleforest; Adeptus Sororitas! I shall rip you apart!" Charging forwards, the now bloodied fanatic crashed into the first guard, bashing his helmed head several times against the floor before she heard something crack. Grabbing his rifle, she fired several times before the second one bashed the butt of his own firearm into the back of her head. The guard was about to bring it down a second time, but the zealot kicked backwards, shattering his kneecap; with a scream, he collapsed. Standing back up, Ophelia pressed the muzzle of her commandeered rifle to the still whimpering doctor's head; without a second of hesitation, she fired.

Running out of her room, the frenzied Battle Sister pushed her way past nurses and patients alike; firing wildly into air to scatter anyone else. All the while, she cursed the Xeno and Heathen alike under her breath, until she made her way out of the hospital; and blindly ran into the dirty and twisting roads until she made it into a dingy back alley. All she heard was her breathing as she slid into a barely conscious pile as her adrenaline and pain killers alike wore off, and it was all Ophelia could do to not scream, as to not alert her pursuers. She saw her vision slowly dimming, threads of black overtaking her sight until nothingness consumed her.

…

"Well, well, well; what have we here?" A voice jolted her back to awareness, her rifle snapping towards the source of the noise that assaulted her. A small gang of dirty individuals had surrounded her; a motley assortment of Xenos and humans alike jeered at her from all directions. As they looked her up and down, one of them; a particularly scarred Turian pushed his way to the front, a wicked grin on his mandibles.  
"So our info was right after all boys, the woman who will make us rich! Think of it, all we need to do is bring this bitch back to Omega and we'll get whatever we want!" Almost as an afterthought he added; "they also said to not…spoil her" A chorus of grumbles resounded around the alleyway, but they were cut off by a gunshot.

Several other groups of equally filthy individuals had clambered into the tight space, all of them armed to the teeth. The two groups immediately started firing at each other, charging into cover or straight into close quarters combat; either way blood began to fly as battle commenced. As the two groups were understandably distracted, the Battle Sister began her own assault, firing her rifles wildly into both sides, her blood pumping as she fought against the hated Xeno. Round after round was sent flying to human and alien skulls, resulting in blood and ichor staining the concrete all around her. As her rifles had finally used up all their ammunition, she grinned to herself; resulting in a truly horrifying image of a blood stained angel of death. One by one, all involved in the gunfight died as the crazed Battle Sister bludgeoned human and Xeno alike to death with the butts of her rifles; roaring praise to the God Emperor of Terra as she did so.

Throwing her rifles aside, she leapt towards a wounded Batarian; grabbing the four eyed Xeno's head with both hands, she slammed it into the floor. Over, and over, and upon the third time; she grinned as the back of his skull split upon the concrete floor, spilling his brains onto her hands. Spitting upon the mangled corpse, Ophelia walked away from the now quiet battlefield; too absorbed with gruesome and self-righteous pride to notice that she was being followed by a two sets of hungry eyes…beings with a hated and familiar Mark on their bodies.

…

?

Everywhere she looked, there was horror; in front of her eyes there was death, sanity had begun to fray the longer she looked at the landscape in front of her. In all directions, swarms of flies covered the sky, their infernal buzzing drowned out the screams of tortured souls that resided in this Hell. Horrific fungi bloomed everywhere, disgusting globules of pus and daemonic ichor dripped their payloads onto the fetid ground; leaving burning trails from where they fell.

Command Maria Shepard looked upon this place with barely contained fear; her training as a soldier kept terror from gnawing away at her resolve, the unholy landscape seemed to shift and crack as unseen forms ran through the toxic foliage. As Shepard began her march out of the shrubbery, a faint form started to take shape at the point where the horizon met the ground; a decrepit building, its exact features unknowable by distance and the flies swarming in front of her eyes.

As the newly resurrected soldier made her way towards the towering mansion, her eyes widened slightly at the sight that lay before her; for standing in front of her were countless corpses, their flesh bloated and stretched to unholy proportions as disgusting vermin crawled out of orifices or made new openings with their needle length teeth. Surrounding the corpses were small corpse like creatures that laughed and jeered as they danced in the rotting innards of untold millions, their horrible cackling ringing in Shepard's ears, driving her to move faster towards the mansion's massive doors.

"Where the hell am I?" she muttered under breath as she pushed the heavy wooden slabs open, sheets of dust pouring onto the soldier's head; as her eyes watered she began to hear something echoing throughout the decaying halls; a deep rumbling that seemed to draw the wary soldier towards its source. Almost in a daze, she wandered deeper and deeper below the plagued ground, the scuttling legions of insects passing unheard in preoccupied ears, her mind consumed by the chants from beneath her feet. Finally she found the source of her obsession; an army of cyclopean corpse like creatures that chanted names of illness and death as they shuffled around a gargantuan cauldron that spewed green smoke that concealed the ceiling with a putrid sheet of death.

Terror gripped Shepard's mind, driving her out of that room and out to the relatively fresh air; only to freeze as she saw a figure sitting in a crumbling armchair next to the crumbling doorway. He was old; that much was clear, as grey hair could just be seen from under a frayed top hat, burning green eyes peered from behind dirty reading glasses as he read from a massive black book, the cracked leather appearing to be as ancient as the man reading it. Without pausing in his task, he spoke; his voice being filled with a morbid sense of mirth; like a man who knew the coming punchline to a joke.

"Well, it's about time you arrived; I thought I might have missed you my dear child. I must admit, you are quite the odd one; to escape my care was certainly a surprise, although I suppose it's not unusual for one to slip out of my sight every few thousand years." His voice was genial and welcoming, yet behind the seemingly warm voice held a rumbling of something far more menacing. Without stopping in his speech, the strange old man continued.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that perhaps Tzeentch had something to with you young lady. But alas, you don't reek of his witchery, something I am so grateful for, as I'd probably kill you if that was the case." With that same grin, he chuckled softly to himself, the sky seeming to darken, the ground crumbling and spewing green smog into the disgusting heavens. As Shepard back peddled away from the old man, she saw that behind her stood untold legions of walking corpses, their flesh ripping apart as armies of daemonic flies tore through the rotted muscles and took to the skies.

As the old man flipped through his book, Shepard's vison began to swirl and blacken; and as she began to collapse, she faintly heard the fading voice of the old man.

"Going so soon? Bah, kids today, not having any backbone. I'll be watching you Shepard, I hope we speak again soon."

And with that, everything faded to black, the maddening laughter of Hell echoing in Commander Shepard's ears.

….

Thank you for reading everyone; I really hoped you enjoyed this chapter. I shall attempt to keep regular updates, and I thank you for being paitent and forgiving towards this story of mine.

And as always, stay classy, stay awesome and have a lovely day.


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